The Price of Usage
by Lady Kalinda
Summary: Simm!Master and Ten fic. Spoilers for Series 3. A certain evil Time Lord being ensnared by Colony 9's newly formed oppressive regime leads to some dangerous possibilities, while the Doctor may have arrived too late to stop it. Please RnR! WIP
1. Prologue

**Characters:** Tenth Doctor, the Master (Simm Version), OCs  
**Pairings:** None, really.. some slash implied, I suppose.. but only if you can see it. Basically it's not much different than what RTD gave us.  
**Spoilers:** Series 3, mostly the last three episodes. Set a long time after Series 3's end.  
**Rating:** T (violence, language, usual stuff.. will be dark in places)  
**Summary:** A certain evil Time Lord being ensnared by Colony 9's newly-formed oppressive regime leads to some dangerous possibilities, while the Doctor may have arrived too late to stop it.  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything. If I did, RTD would've written LotTL's MY way D  
**Author's Notes: **This story assumes the Tenth Doctor and the Simm!Master have already met again after he is resurrected (however that happens). Herein I will make references to said meeting, which will be explained in time.

Basically, I wrote this because I wanted a story about a battle of wits between the Doctor and the Master, rather then slash (not that I've got anything against that, mind). So this is all about them and their personal war from a non-slashy perspective... with slight implied slash if you can see it.

This is unbeta'd and is the first bit of writing I've done for this fandom. So my apologies if it sucks :)

**THE PRICE OF USAGE**

**Prologue:**

The Master tore across the jungle landscape of Rexall 4, his expensive shoes soaked all the way through from his run across the shallow waters. He occasionally threw his arms out in front of him to avoid being hit by the numerous vines that dared to try and stop him. Now far behind he could hear the Rexallan tribes shouting at him for his treachery.

He wondered if this was the sort of thing the Doctor went through on a regular basis, he couldn't remember the last time he had had to run for his life like this. Well, there was that moment on board the _Valiant_ after the Doctor had defeated him, but that was hardly the same as this. At least then he wasn't being pursued by several hundred tribesmen intend on offering him off as a ritual sacrifice to their gods.

Still, trying to start a war to get a hold of advanced technology was always a risky business. But he certainly hadn't expected the opposing tribes to join forces and turn on him at the last moment. If it hadn't been for his genius, he never would've made it out of there alive.

Leaping a small stream, he glanced back over his shoulder. The distance between him and his pursuers had at least widened a little, enough so they had stopped firing their energy weapons at him. At this moment he felt exceedingly thankful he had two hearts and could therefore not get tired out as easily.

Strangely, the drums were quieter than normal, perhaps they had been drowned out by his fear. A similar thing happened to him during the Time War when he had looked to death in the face and ran.

A flood of relief hit him as he zipped over some fallen logs to find his TARDIS, disguised as a large tree and unnoticeable to anyone but him. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his key, skidding to a stop before the time-space capsule.

As he worked the key into the lock, a laser blast exploded above his head. Twisting the key, he threw open the door and leapt inside. A second before he slammed the door shut, another blast flew past his ear and exploded as it struck the TARDIS console.

Picking himself up, he scrambled forward and began throwing switches, waving away the smoke. Hopefully not too much damage had not been done, but he would worry about that later, after he gotten off this godsforsaken planet. He set the coordinates for somewhere much nicer, a planet he could stop at and relax while he formulated another plan.

The moment his ship dematerialized and went screaming through the vortex on its way to its destination, he noticed that the sparks were still jumping. Breathing a sigh, he waved away more smoke and examined the damage more closely.

For one, the chameleon circuit had been blown to bits so he was going to have to build a new one from scratch, which wasn't really a problem; he'd just need parts. Although he wasn't too fond of the ship looking like a large tree wherever he went. It was almost as bad as the Doctor and his infernal police box. At least the Master actually had the engineering skills required to fix _his_ ship, he thought with a hint of satisfaction.

Before checking the rest of the damage, he went back to the monitor and imputed a change of coordinates. There was only one place he knew of to get the parts he required and that was Idel, the ultimate intergalactic junkyard and flea market.

The moment that he threw the lever, the TARDIS rocked in a way that he was completely unused to, tossing him to the floor. More sparks leapt off the console before the familiar groan sounded throughout the ship to indicate that he had landed.

Coughing, he waved the smoke away and picked himself up, whilst muttering curses. His TARDIS normally didn't behave this way; she was a much newer and much more reliable ship than the Doctor's rickety old thing. She was so important, in fact, that he had made it a point to go and fetch her from the end of the universe before he went about with his clever scheme to take over the Earth.

Waving away more of the smoke, he quickly changed out of his current clothes and into new ones before donning his favourite black overcoat. As puny as humans were, he had to admit that he rather liked their dress sense. And their music, definitely their music. Pulling on his gloves, since it was sometimes rather cold on Idel, he checked to make sure his laser screwdriver was secure in his right breast pocket before he descended the ramp and opened the doors.

It was only after he closed the doors behind him that he realized, with a great deal of dissatisfaction, but this was certainly not Idel. His next clue came in the form of the dozen or so soldiers standing before his TARDIS with their laser weapons trained on him. Their white lights illuminated the otherwise dark room.

'_Don't move_!' one of them ordered.

Oh, this just wasn't fair! He swore under his breath, raising his hands and frowning at them. The men moved toward him with a pair of restraints and he knew this day had gone from bad to much, much worse.


	2. The Time Lord

**Chapter 1: The Time Lord**

_2305. Colony 9, Calken System._

Miles Gordon hurried off the shuttle and into the spaceport, waiting in line to be given a hover cart so he could collect his luggage. It was unsurprising to him that the guards were going to do extensive scans of his things, just like they did to everyone else.

Colony 9 had undergone a revolution only one year previously, with the military seizing power from a poor and defenceless government that failed to satisfy the starving masses. Of course, the military had set up a totalitarian dictatorship and were slowly working on stripping everyone of their rights. It reminded him of the revolutions that used to happen on pre-space travel Earth, who would have thought that such things still continued to this day.

Miles had been born on this planet, and despite his lack of belief in the Good Cause (the ideology General Greer had used to incite revolution), he still wouldn't leave it. His parents and sisters still lived here, he had not seen them in almost a year, and he had every intention of staying here until he could find a way to get them away from this place.

That aside, he had been offered his old job as senior alien expert within the government. So, he had left Earth and come back here where he stood a good chance of earning some serious pay. Besides, his position would protect him.

'Miles Gordon?' a voice spoke beside him and he turned, seeing a rather portly man with two black-garbed body guards.

'Yes?' Miles replied inquisitively, eyeing the man.

The other immediately seized his hand and shook it several times. 'George McDonald, Minister of ET Affairs,' he said enthusiastically. 'Finally,' he lowered his voice, 'you might be able to get through to our man.'

'Man?' Miles blinked. He had wondered if there was a specific reason they wanted him back. He had brokered several treaties with different alien races years ago.

'Yes, follow me,' McDonald led him out of the line and toward the spaceport exit.

'Um, that's very good.. but, I need my--'

'My men will get your luggage and have it delivered to your house.'

'Oh... of course.. thank you, sir,' Miles followed the minister outside and into a rather new and expensive looking car.

* * *

The government holding facility, or prison, had existed before the revolution and was apparently so top-secret that Miles had never heard of it before. It was located several miles underneath the main government building and, apparently, most of the cells were currently vacant. Any political prisoners probably just went to the regular prisons. This place was special and when Miles got there, he discovered why.

Armed with only a tablet and the stylus, Colony 9's newly restored Alien Expert went through all the scanners before entering the cell block. At the end of the hall one of the black clad guards steps toward him.

'Mr. Gordon, sir, we ask that you wear this,' the guard handed him an odd looking bracelet.

'What's it for?' Miles lifted his eyebrows, he had not seen technology like it before. Then again, he had been out of a government job for nearly a year.

'Anti-hypnosis device. It gives off a low-level force field and protects you from any sort of mind control. The prisoner, see, he managed to hypnotize one of the guards into letting him out and he nearly escaped,' the guard gestured toward the door.

Miles nodded before he slipped the bracelet on. 'Thanks.'

'Your welcome, sir. Be careful with him, he's tricky. Are you ready?'

Miles nodded, recalling the briefing he had just finished with before. They'd gone through how the alien had randomly appeared within their base and how he had thus far not been overly co-operative. They'd also said they didn't recognize his blood sample.

He entered the white cell, which contained only a table and a bed. It was its subject that caught his attention immediately, however. He was sitting in the corner, his hands bound in shackles, and his left leg held to the wall via a long chain. He wore the usual prison garb and looked otherwise normal, just like a human. It had been years since he'd seen an alien who looked so _human_.

'How extraordinary,' he muttered. The man looked up, his expression one of boredom, his brown eyes open.

'Sorry, my name is Miles Gordon. I'd just like to talk to you,' Miles came toward the man, not really worried about being hurt, and offered his hand. The alien stared back at him, his eyes glowing with superiority.

'Yes, well.. um...' Miles cleared his throat and withdrew his hand when it became obvious that the other man was not going to shake it. 'What's your name?'

At that the man smiled, and his expression became dangerous. He stared at Miles, his bronze gaze borrowing into the human's soul.

'I am the Master,' he said coolly, 'and I want you, Miles Gordon, to unchain me, and then get me out of here.'

Miles immediately knew what the Master, if that was really his name, was trying to do. He held up his hand, pulling his sleeve down to display the bracelet. 'Sorry, that isn't going to work with me. I just want to talk.'

The alien sighed heavily, dropping his head into his hands. It was then that Miles noticed that he was tapping out a beat against his arm. It was a strange thing to do.

'What's that you're doing?' Miles asked, unsure of exactly what else you could say. The guard had been right, this was a tricky alien.

'Can you hear it?' the Master pulled his head from his hands and looked up at him.

'Hear what?'

'The drums. They're there now, just listen,' he held up a finger, his eyes once again closed. 'Do you hear it, Miles Gordan?' He was practically whispering now.

Miles stopped for a moment and listened before shaking his head. 'I don't hear anything, sorry.'

'No one ever does,' the Master muttered.

'What species are you, exactly?' Miles decided to try something different, the more direct approach.

At this the Master laughed, grinning from ear to ear. He opened his eyes again and stared up at Miles. 'Ahh, now _that_ is the million dollar question, isn't it? No one's asked me that since I got here. Just got a lot of,' - his voice became deeper and more sarcastic - '"Why did you come here?" and "Who do you work for?"' He rolled his eyes. 'Now, you'd think your question would be the first they'd ask, but no. You stupid apes never want to do anything the easy way.'

Miles winced inwardly at the insult. Certainly, he had been insulted before, but it seemed rather rude and outright foolish for a man who had no advantages to be saying such things.

'_Ohh_, didn't hurt your feelings, did I?' the Master put his hands together, his expression changing to a mock pout, the amusement clearly evident in his dark eyes.

'Um, no.. you are entitled to your opinion,' Miles said softly. The alien jumped up, seemingly reinvigorated by Miles and his visit.

'Not on this planet,' he said pointedly.

'Excuse me?'

'Well, you know, you've got a military dictatorship. The first thing they do is cut out the heart of the people, take away their rights,' he smiled devilishly.

'It's all in the name of the Cause, too much power can be a bad influence on the people,' Miles said, regurgitating the same crap that he had read about years ago.

'Oh, cause smause,' the Master waved his hand dismissively. 'It's all about the power, you humans can't resist it. And you're so _good_ at oppressing and killing each other. That's just...' he sucked in a slow breath, as though he found all this rather, well, pleasurable, '_inspired_.'

'Now, that's enough!' Miles finally put his foot down. 'Answer me! What species are you? The sooner you start talking, the sooner I can start giving you some help.'

The Master placed a finger over his lips. 'Hmmm...' he appeared to think for a moment before finally turning to Miles, not smiling now. 'I'm a _Time Lord_,' he said darkly, his eyes burning with superiority again.

Miles' eyes widened, his mouth dropping open slightly. Memories bubbled to the surface of his mind: years ago he had met another man who had looked human, but was not and who had also called himself a Time Lord. According to his heavy-handed research, they were a mighty race of time travellers who had died in a war, leaving only this man who had once helped him. But that man and the man that stood before him now were not the same person.

'Your race, they're all gone... years ago I met a Doctor, he told me there was only one left. But since there's you, there must be two now... maybe more,' he said, unable to keep the awe of his voice.

'A _Doctor_?' the Master breathed softly, his whole face changing. Miles swore he saw flashes of light in his eyes.

Miles nodded. 'Listen, if you're a Time Lord, that means that you have a lot of knowledge... would you be willing to share some of that with us?'

'You want me to build you weapons?' The Master seemed delighted at the prospect, which worried Miles more than a little.

'Not necessarily,' he knew his own words when untrue, however, and that General Greer would indeed want weapons so she could expand beyond this planet and into the rest of the Calken System.

The Master held up a finger pointedly. '_Military dictatorship_,' he spoke the words slowly and deliberately. He seemed positively glowing since the mention of the Doctor, and even more so at the idea of building weapons

'Well, I'll have to take your offer to the General...' Miles fiddled with his tablet nervously, surprised at the fact that he taken no notes as of yet.

'Tell him I want better accommodations, or he'll get nothing for me,' the Master said.

'Yes, I'll tell _her_ that.' The Master made a face as Miles corrected him. 'Now, why exactly did you come here?' Miles expected the Master to roll his eyes and not answer, but the Time Lord smiled instead.

His tone then took on an over the top American accent: 'Well, _son_, I wanted to diieeeee of boooredom!' He threw up his arms theatrically before folding them over his chest, his chains clinking as he did so.

'Really, seriously,' Miles said, trying to maintain his patience. The Master flashed him a smile.

'I got unlucky,' he said honestly. 'What, you think I came to this backwater planet _on purpose _? Colony 9 doesn't ever amount to anything! There's _nothing_ here, except a few million _humans_. Boring. Boring. _Boor-ing_.'

'So it was an accident?' Miles raised his eyebrows, jotting down notes on his tablet. He was beginning to question the Master's sanity. It was strange, actually, because the Time Lord's witticisms and movements reminded him of the Doctor, except for the Master's obvious contempt for humanity.

'Why, he's finally got it!' The Master bounced on his heels, heading to the table and leaning against it. The chain attached to his leg rattled as he moved. 'Now,' he said, more seriously, 'I get to ask you a question.'

'Alright,' Miles folded his arms, having finished jotting down notes. 'That's fair.'

The Master leaned toward him, brown eyes burning brightly. 'When did you last see this.. _Doctor_?'

Miles blinked at the question. 'Um.. years ago.. but... yes, it was years ago,' he replied nervously, wondering exactly why the Doctor was of such interest. Perhaps the Master knew him, they were both Time Lords.

The Master looked away from him, lost in thought. Miles regarded him for just a moment, noting how he changed moods faster than the images in one of those old Earth slot machines. He decided he was done, he had the answers to Greer's questions and this filled him with unease.

'Well, that's enough, thank you for your time,' the Alien Expert turned and knocked on the door three times.

'I didn't have a lot of choice, did I?' the Master said softly.

'Yes.. well.. quite... um... Good day.' Miles left the room, a sense of purpose filling him as he walked down the hall and out of the cell block.

* * *

The Master smiled to himself as he watched the human go. He had taken a quick look inside the mind of Miles Gordon and discovered his intention of contacting the Doctor to ask for his help.

The _Doctor_! The one person in the whole galaxy who was the Master's equal, the one person he hated (and loved) more than anyone else. He had caused a great deal of destruction and chaos while he was wandering around after he last met the Doctor, but it felt like ages since then. Going on a murderous rampage was never half as much fun if his nemesis wasn't there to try and stop him. Especially considering all the brilliant and utterly cruel things that had happened the last time they met. Oh, he was looking forward to twisting the knife just a little more.

He hoped the Miles Gordon would hurry up, the sooner he got speak to the leader of these humans, the better. Then the game could really begin.


	3. Months Late

**Chapter 2: Months Late**

The box-shaped time capsule careened swiftly through the vortex, its single occupant holding tightly to the console as the ship rocked and bumped on its long journey from Earth.

The Doctor steadied himself, holding on for dear life. He brought up one of his feet and used it to throw a lever, while his hands worked at the rest of the console. He had received a distress signal, addressed directly to him, from Colony 9 in the year 2305, the exact date of the message being May 5th. Someone wanted to meet him for something, hopefully someone friendly. He also hoped that the TARDIS would get him to the right date.

Normally he would be doing a lot of talking, a lot of explaining, speaking enthusiastically about Colony 9, a place he'd not visited in years, but he had no company, only the silence. He had been on his own since Martha had left him, wandering about through time and space having all manner of adventures. Alone. Without anyone there with him, the silence sometimes ate away at him, taunting him and reminding him of all the people he'd lost. _Rose_, Jack, Sarah Jane, Susan, Romana... _The Master_.

His best friend turned mortal enemy. He remembered a time long ago, before the war, when he had hoped the Master didn't survive.. but now the other Time Lord was the only one left. The Doctor hadn't been able to reach him, to make him understand. And the last time they had met...

The TARDIS let out a familiar groan as she landed, breaking into his thoughts and pulling him back to the present, the central column becoming still. Turning on his heel, the Doctor headed down the ramp, grabbing his coat along the way.

He left the ship behind in a small underground alleyway, generally unnoticeable by any passerby. He then headed up to street level, where he found himself in the middle of a sprawling metropolis that was the capital city of Colony 9.

People walked to and fro, generally going about their day, no one taking much notice of him at all as he easily blended in with everyone else. He had to find out what day it was before he set about tracking down the person who sent the signal.

'Citizens of Colony 9, _rejoice_!' the Doctor looked up, the words catching his attention. In the center of the square up ahead there was a large television screen, flanked by giant speakers planted all around. Upon the screen there were messages displayed about various things as the voice continued to speak: 'On this day, October 17th, 2305, we celebrate the anniversary of our _glorious _Revolution, where we were freed from...' The message went on a similar vein.

_October 17_? The Doctor frowned. Leave it up to his ship to get the date wrong and send him to the planet several months after the message had been sent! The worst bit was that he couldn't really go back and try it again, or else what he was seeing right now might turn out very different.. and well, timey wimey stuff. So at least the year was right.

It suddenly struck him how very familiar the words "citizens rejoice" were, as though someone else had used them not so long ago. His mind nagged at him about it for a moment, but when he could not remember, he dismissed it and pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

Switching to setting 53a, he ordered the device to track down where the signal had come from, hoping that whoever had sent it still resided in the same place they had several months ago.

So, he set off upon a journey across the city, towards the residential area. Along the way, he sampled a free hot dog from a Squidac (funny looking squid-like alien, long tentacles at the mouth), was given a copy of the _Colony Niner_, a city newspaper (the headline read "Glorious Leader Celebrates Revolution, Holds Party"), and was stopped by the police. Whipping out the psychic paper, he managed to get past them easily enough by pretending to be a scientist from the Ministry of Research who was conducting a tracking experiment.

Finally, he reached a small house within the residential area, number 12. He noted that it looked rather inhabited (the lawn was mowed, the windows clean, the mail-eport box in good order, the inside lights on) as he made his way up the walk. Pocketing his sonic screwdriver, he raised his fist and rapped it against the door wooden several times.

As he waited, he noticed the small camera that resided in the corner above the door. It was commonplace, he remembered, for most people to have cameras outside the home and to check them before they answered the door. With that in mind, he raised his hand and put on a grin whilst he waved to the camera.

A moment later the door swung open and a hand grabbed him, pulling him quickly inside.

'Doctor! You came!' the sandy haired, blue-eyed man spoke, sounding relieved. His tired eyes lit up with hope.

'So, you sent the signal, mister...?' the Doctor scratched his head. There was something familiar about the man, something he couldn't quite place.

'You don't remember me?' The man looked crestfallen. 'I'm Miles Gordon...'

'Miles... Miles...' the Doctor thought for a moment, then suddenly his face lit up and he grabbed Miles' hand. 'Oh, yes! That's right! Miles Gordan! First time you defeated the Zygons! ... _Well_, third time for me,' he scratched his head again. 'Actu--'

'Doctor!' Miles snapped him out of his reverie.

'Oh, yes, right. Sorry. What did you need again?' the Doctor dropped his hand back to his side and Miles turned, leading him into the kitchen after he had taken the Time Lord's coat.

'I sent that message months ago, why it take you so long to get here?'

'Bit of trouble with the TARDIS,' the Doctor muttered, looking away. It was embarrassing enough that his ship had gotten the date wrong.

'Can't you just go back and land here when I sent the message? It's a bit late now...' Miles frowned, pouring himself a cup of tea.

'Nope, couldn't possibly. Might create a paradox, big hole in the fabric of time, not pretty. And why do you say that? _Too late_? It's never too late!' the Doctor grinned before going to the patio door by the table and looking out into Miles' empty back yard.

'Because when I sent that message, _he_ didn't have control of the Ministry of Truth and he wasn't building weapons for Greer. They tell me the first rocket is almost completed,' Miles frowned. 'Cup of tea, by the way?'

'Yeah,' the Doctor turned back to face him. 'Rocket? _Ministry of Truth_? Why do megalomaniacs keep nicking Orwell's names? Honestly, isn't anybody original anymore? No! Hold on, did you say_ him_? Him who?'

Miles turned and set the tea on the table before him. He then went to the cabinet on the other side of the room. The Doctor grabbed his cup and took a sip, smiling to himself. Nothing beat old-fashioned English tea.

'He showed up a couple of weeks before I sent that message, I interviewed him as soon as I got back here. I thought he was strange, even a bit crazy, but...' Miles held up a a photograph and the blood drained from the Doctor's face, 'he said he was a Time Lord... and called himself the Master.'

'Nooo! No, no, no! Wait.. no.. hold on!' The Doctor ran his hand through his hair, hitting his head several times. 'That's it!' He came forward and snatched the photo from Miles' hand, pacing. 'Yes! That's it! That phrase: Citizens Rejoice! That was him! He must've known I was coming, put it there to tip me off! _Or_ he's just really fond of it...' the Doctor stopped and looked at the bemused Miles. 'Does anyone know you sent that message?'

'No one, I kept it a secret,' Miles said. 'And isn't that a bit of a stretch? Citizens rejoice? That's not exactly an uncommon phrase. Besides, why should he want to tip you off? I take it you know each other?'

'Oh, we go way back, way, _way_ back,' the Doctor looked down at the photo. The Master stared back up at him, looking throughly unhappy. 'And he's always been a bit of a showoff, _well_.. I say "a bit," I mean a lot, huge. Great.. showman.' He stepped toward Miles. 'Wait, you said he was building rockets_? Weapons_?'

'Yes, he's still technically a prisoner and if he wants to leave he has to give us something, General Greer wanted weapons so she could start invading other planets in this system.'

The Doctor's expression turned serious suddenly, his eyes flashing darkly. The full brevity of the situation dawned on him and he mentally kicked himself enjoying this a little bit. Those days were gone.

'He's dangerous,' the Doctor said seriously, 'if there's one thing he can't stand, it's being used. You've got to talk to your people, get them to hand him over to me before he does something they'll regret. He's my responsibility.'

'That's not very easy, everybody thinks he's great, but General Greer doesn't trust him, I hear. She won't give him up, though.. she wants those weapons.. and he has the knowledge. Apparently he's been helpful with the propaganda and catching criminals, but I'm not privy to everything.'

The Doctor knew immediately what Miles meant by "criminals", another handy way of saying people who stood up against the regime. That was right up the Master's alley. He supposed that some things about humanity, or the universe in general, never changed.

'Listen to me,' the Doctor's tone became more urgent, 'Let me talk to your General. Whatever he's saying, whatever he's _done_, he doesn't mean it. He'd destroy this whole planet in order to escape!'

Miles sighed. 'I was afraid of that... I don't want Greer getting those weapons and starting a war. So... I guess I'll let you try... I doubt she'll listen but...' he shrugged. 'You'll need to disguise yourself, though.'

'Disguise? What's wrong with what I've got on?' the Doctor looked down at his clothes, his expression puzzled.

'No, I mean.. your species. They've got scanners... they detect if you're carrying weapons.. and what species you are; they're keen about grabbing unknown aliens. If they find out you're a Time Lord, they'll cut you open.. or worse. So can you hide yourself?'

'_Ohhh... _yes, right!' The Doctor nodded. He started digging through his pockets, his fingers briefly touching several different things he had no use of at that moment. Funny thing about dimensionally transcendental pockets, they were always incredibly messy and full of things you hadn't used in centuries.

Speaking of disguises, he realized just then that he couldn't sense the Master, much to his annoyance. His old enemy had taken to using bio-dampeners and all manner of other devices to keep himself hidden from the Doctor. He realized then that he had no such thing, not on him anyway, and that meant the Master probably knew he was on Colony 9. He mentally kicked himself again; he was going to have to start taking these things into account.

'I've got just the thing, have to run to the TARDIS and fetch it. Back in a sec!' he turned and headed toward the door.

'No, don't go out that way! Use the back,' Miles said urgently.

'Why?' the Doctor set down the Master's photograph on the table, grabbing his coat.

'There's no cameras there.. yet.'

'Cameras? I thought that was yours.'

'It is, but it's monitored by the Ministry of Truth.'

'Is it?' the Doctor frowned. '"Big Brother is watching you"? Ooh, the Master definitely already knows I'm here, I'd better hurry!' He bounded toward the back door. 'They aren't wiretapping your house or anything, are they?'

'No, they haven't worked up to that stage yet.'

'Right, good, back soon!' the Doctor threw open the door, running off.

* * *

Central Headquarters. The large glass building loomed above Miles and the Doctor like a shadow, its black-tinted outer walls revealing nothing about what lay within. Were it not for the regular people walked to and fro, the Doctor might have mistaken it for an evil fortress of some sort.

'"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,"' he muttered, the Dante quote seeming appropriate.

'I've pulled a few strings, so you're Doctor John Smith, an old associate of mine who is an expert on Time Lords. I've gotten you an appointment with the General; she should see you immediately, since the information you have is important.' Miles spoke from beside him, apparently not hearing his quoting.

'Just hope she listens,' the Doctor said softly. Even he was beginning to doubt it, despite his excellence at talking people around.

'Well, good luck. Just go talk to the receptionist.. and she'll get you in. I have to go, I've got an appointment to keep. I'll be back here later.' Miles gave him a nod before making his exit.

He had declined to let the men at the door take his coat, he didn't trust the denizens of an evil regime to look out for it. Then, after seeing the lady at reception, the Doctor was told to wait.

So he took the opportunity to have a look around the lavish and overblown lobby, with its fountain holding a statue of General Greer. She stood there, proudly gazing out over the lobby, her hair pulled back behind her head and partially hidden by her hat.

Standing by the fountain, he looked up and saw the above three floors, their balconies all protected by glass railings. There was an old fashioned staircase and an elevator as well, both of which looked more elaborate than necessary.

It was the portraits along the wall, however, that really caught his attention. One in particular. A grinning, black suited man who seemed to be staring directly at him. The only other Time Lord in existence. The Master.

'Hello again,' the Doctor muttered, watching the face. Even in the picture, he could see the Master's eyes burning with superiority and a hatred spanning centuries. He felt certain he would meet his old foe again soon, and he found himself simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the moment. How did that work, then?

The last time they had met the Doctor had tried to forgive him, he had said it, again and again, each time the Master verbally stung him. And then the Master had done the unthinkable; something too horrible for words, just to see the Doctor's reaction, the anger as bright as suns in his brown eyes. After that it had been impossible for him to utter those three important words – _I Forgive _You – even when the Master had gleefully tried to goad him into doing so. That was one of the few times, he had to admit, when the Master _had _won.

Still, he had to hold onto the hope: the Mastercould change, surely. He could become good, reconcile the loss of Gallifrey and accept the importance that the two of them were stuck together, the last of their race. The Doctor had to believe that, he just had to.

Now, standing here in the lobby and staring at the Master's grinning portrait, he became even more convinced that the only safe place for the Master was the TARDIS, it was the best place to reform him. He had to stop him from being free and wrecking havoc. It wasn't a game anymore, it _couldn't_ be.

'The General will see you now,' the receptionist called over to him. He turned and followed another man across the lobby and into the elevator.

General Greer was much prettier in real life, particularly now as she sat at her desk with her coat unbuttoned and her untamed black hair left free to fall past her shoulders. With a slight shudder, the Doctor realized how easily it must have been for the Master to seduce her, and gain the control he had. The Master used and discarded humans so easily, as if they were puppets. It was more than a little sickening.

'So, Doctor John Smith,' Greer said, leaning back in her chair and regarding him, 'you're a Time Lord expert?'

'Yeah, something like that,' the Doctor did not smile, 'I want you to hand the Master over to me for Torchwood, it's_ vital_, essential, to the safety of your planet.'

'You're demanding a lot; Earth hardly has the power to push us around. Torchwood certainly doesn't. They're well aware of what we're doing and how it's within our planetary rights to do it.' The General's green eyes were stone cold now. 'Besides, he's been very forthcoming.'

'For what? Building weapons? He's not really helping you.'

'He's done a lot for this planet, for our Cause.'

The Doctor looked her up and down then, noticing something shining on her wrist. 'What's that?' he pointed.

'Hmm? What?' she looked down at it.

'Anti-Hypnosis Device,' the Doctor was a bit surprised, '_so_, you don't trust him.'

Greer shot up, going to the window. 'Of course I don't trust him! It doesn't take a Time Lord expert to tell me he's dangerous. But he's under my control so long as I've got his ship.'

'_Ship_?' the Doctor lifted his eyebrows. So the Master really did have one, probably a TARDIS. He couldn't begin to guess how and where he'd got his hands on it, but it stood to reason, which made him even more dangerous.

'Yes, strange looking thing. We can't get into it.. but we've got it under lock and key nonetheless. Everything's under control, Doctor Smith.'

'Really? Sure about that? Are are _really_, _really_ sure?' the Doctor scratched his head, watching her. He doubted very much that the Master would allow anyone to control him; although clearly Greer held a few of the cards. 'Cos' when he gets free, and he will, he won't be _helping_ you.'

'You talk like you know him personally, or are all Time Lords just like he is?' Greer poured herself a glass of wine.

'_Well_...' the Doctor rubbed his ear, 'no, we've just got these _files_ on him, specifically. He's a bit of a criminal.' He knew that was an understatement if ever there was one.

'A criminal? Not on this planet, he's been helping us advance the cause. And he'll help us advance it across the stars. A thousand perfect worlds,' her eyes glowed with a lust the Doctor recognized easily, a hunger for power hidden behind some phony ideology.

He leaned forward, placing his hands on her desk. '"A world of steel and concrete, of monstrous marching and terrifying weapons,"' the Orwellian quote came to him easily, even if he hadn't read the book in a few centuries. It sickened him how similar the situation was, sometimes humans didn't learn anything.

'"A nation of warriors and fanatics,"' a new voice entered the room, a familiar one dripping with quiet glee as it took the quote from him and continued, '"marching forward in perfect unity, all thinking the same thoughts, wearing the same clothes and shouting the same slogans."'

The Doctor slowly turned and his bronze gaze met another, much darker one.

The Master.

He stood there casually in the doorway, wearing a simple black suit without a tie and looking much the same as he had the last time the Doctor had seen him. The Doctor stopped paying attention to Greer, his eyes on the Master as his nemesis sauntered into the room, brown gaze never leaving him.

'_Doctor_,' the Master breathed, his voice putting so much emotion, so much hate and love, into the name.

'Master,' the Doctor responded in kind, as though this were part of some sacred ritual that was repeated whenever they met. For a moment he forgot they weren't alone, he just stood there facing his enemy, his friend, as though there was nothing else but the two of them.

The Master stopped and smiled, closing his eyes and breathing a sigh at the sound of the his name. The Doctor knew he always got a bit of pleasure out of hearing it, but he didn't care. He hardly used it and when he did, he didn't mean it.. and the Master knew that, too.

Those dark eyes opened again and the moment was gone. 'Orwell, genius,' the Master said. 'Humans are so funny, they write down the best ideas and then don't put them to use.'

'Quite right not to,' the Doctor countered, his voice so soft only the Master could hear him, his eyes burning. 'They would've enslaved themselves long ago if they had.'

'Too late, they already have,' the Master whispered, obviously delighted at the very idea.

'So, you _do_ know each other?' General Greer pulled the two of them from their confrontation, coming around the desk and eyeing them both in turn.

'Yeah, old _friends_,' the Master spoke before the Doctor could. 'It's a bit personal, I'd like a private word with him, actually.' He flashed the Doctor a secret smile.

Greer considered for a moment, then finally nodded. 'Fine, in your office. He can't do any harm, I suppose.. he's only human,' she shrugged and turned away. 'Earth really has no authority over us, just don't kill him or harm him.'

'Oh, I wouldn't _dream_ of it,' the way the Master spoke and looked at him made the Doctor rather uneasy. His smile was knowing.

A bit of fear nagged at the Doctor from the back of his mind suddenly: the Master _knew_ he wasn't human. He sucked in a slow breath and waited, almost expectantly, for his nemesis to betray this fact and thus have him shipped off to be dissected.

The Master knew he was thinking about it, too, and he grinned even more now, prolonging the moment of fear. His dark eyes glittered, almost hungrily, clearly enjoying every second of the Doctor's anxiety.

Then he said nothing.

Instead he slipped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders and led him from the room, happy as a child who had just gotten himself a birthday present.


	4. Unpleasant Reunion

**Chapter 3: Unpleasant Reunion**

The Master's office was as large as Greer's, and slightly more stylish. His curtains were pulled back to display the veritable panorama that was the city below and he even had a book shelf full of various novels and science books, though where he got them from the Doctor didn't know.

'So_, Doctor_,' the Master said casually, crossing the room to his wine cabinet, 'come to _stop me_?'

'Yeah, that's the idea,' the Doctor nodded, noticing photos of him waving into the camera at Miles' house on the Master's desk, 'been expecting me then?'

'Is it really that obvious?' the Master smiled at him from his place by the wine cabinet. 'But you're _awfully_ late, I should've known. That TARDIS of yours never behaved properly. She was a right bitch when I tried to use her.'

'_Really_? Can't imagine why!' the Doctor didn't bother hiding his sarcasm and disgust at what the Master had done to his beloved ship back on Earth. 'But.. you've got your own now.'

'I _know_, it's great! Travelling the universe, meeting all those strange and interesting people--'

'_Killing_ them,' the Doctor interrupted him, his voice dark. The memory of their last meeting forced its way to the surface of his mind's eye just then. He was surprised when the Master made no visible reaction to his remark, however.

'Drink?' Instead his nemesis held out a glass to him.

'No,' the Doctor declined, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

'Don't trust me?' The Master set both glasses down and bounced on his heels suddenly, turning to the Doctor with what appeared to be a sincere smile. 'But! I wanted to tell you the good news, Doctor!'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be "good". Just more games.

'I _love_ this little planet, really I do. I've had so much time to think about everything I've done wrong.. and you know, I think I've seen the error of my ways,' his face remained much the same, plastered with sincerity and, shockingly, goodness. The Doctor eyed him for a moment, almost wanting to believe it.. but..

'And what, you've _changed_? Seen the light, that it?' he didn't hide his disbelief.

'You don't believe me?' the Master laughed then, walking closer to him.

'No,' the Doctor said softly, darkly.

'The Doctor doesn't believe me! Ooo, this is _good_! Does that mean you've completely given up on me? Think I can't _ever_ change?' the Master smiled at him and the Doctor knew he was enjoying every second of this.

'Everyone can change, but it'll take more for someone like _you._ I can help, I co--,' he said.

'Oh, no, no, no,' the Master dismissed his words, wagging a finger at him. 'Actually.. hmm...' he pretended to consider for a moment. He leaned in closer, his lips not far from the Doctor's ear. 'Can you still hear it, Doctor? The _screaming_? Is it there when you close your eyes, waiting for you? Millions of people, dying... and you, unable to save_ any_ of them.'

The Doctor tried not to flinch, tried not to visibly react, but he failed miserably. The Master put an arm on his shoulder, leaning against him a little. He smiled wickedly, eyes dancing. 'And it felt so _good_, too, all that fire and death. I wonder if that's what Gallifrey's destruction would've felt like had_ I _done it...' he added, his voice caressing every word, savouring every second of his former friend's agony.

'_Stop it_!' The Doctor snarled, anger and guilt coming off him in waves. He backed away, resisting the urge to hit him.. to keep hitting him until he bled. What happened the last time they met, what the Master had done to the people of Regalia Minor was - he couldn't believe he was even thinking this - _unforgivable_.

'Well?' the Master looked at him expectantly, fiddling with his ring. 'Do you _forgive_ me, _Doctor_? Tell me you forgive me!' He chuckled, eyes aglow with triumph.

The Doctor glared at him, his brown eyes old and powerful. The Master was toying with him, just as he had on Regalia Minor. He couldn't bring himself to utter those three words, not here.. not now.. not after what had happened before. He felt his earlier belief that the Master could, that deep down he _wanted_ to be saved slowly begin to crumble in the face of his nemesis' cruelty. He wasn't sure exactly what to think anymore.

Refusing to take the bait, the Doctor turned on his heel and went to the Master's desk. 'You're definitely up to something. What is it, though? Colony 9 hasn't got much use, not unless you wanted-- _Ohhh_!' he whirled round and looked at the Master, pointing a finger at him. 'You're either going to destroy this planet or try and use it to take over the whole system!' He raised his chin up a little, rather pleased with his deduction.

The Master looked at him seriously for a moment, then burst into laughter. 'Doctor, Doctor...' he came closer, the two of them only inches apart, their eyes meeting. '_Doctor_, why would I want to destroy this planet? I've been helping them out. I have to say.. being virtuous, merciful.. it's so,' he took in an exaggerated breath, '_satisfying_.'

'Only you'd think helping a military regime is satisfying,' the Doctor spoke softly. 'Greer's gonna try and build herself an empire.'

'And are you going to stop her, Doctor? Or are you just here for me?' the Master felt dangerously close now, too close, but the Doctor stood his ground, looking back into his enemy's amused eyes.

'I stop you, I stop her,' he replied.

'Aw, why do you always think I'm up to something? Am I _really _so bad?' the Master pouted.

The Doctor finally edged away from him, turning to the desk and leafing through the papers. '_Because_ I don't trust you. Now, what's the plan this time, eh?' He pulled up two papers, boggling at them.

'Shocking, isn't it, Doctor?' the Master leaned against the desk. 'I _actually_ told them about the cure for some diseases their people suffered from.'

'But you're still building weapons,' the Doctor said, finding nothing among the papers. So the Master had just hidden the plans. He turned to the other Time Lord.

'Pretty strong accusation. Can you back it up?' the Master lifted his eyebrows.

'Stop it! Greer admitted what you were doing! She said you were helping advance the "cause." And _that's _not curing diseases.'

'Doctor,' the Master placed a hand over his hearts, 'it hurts that you don't trust me. You're the one who wanted me to change, become just like_ you_.' There was a hint of mockery in his tone. He walked around the desk and sat himself down in his chair.

There was suddenly a knock at the door, and the Master frowned, exchanging a glance with the Doctor before he jumped up and went to answer it. He exchanged a few hushed words with whoever was on the other side.

The Doctor looked to the papers again before turning around and folding his arms. He watched the Master, wondering if the opportunity he wanted would arise. Finally his fellow Time Lord turned around from the door, still not opening it all the way.

'Excuse me, have to attend to a little bit of business,' the Master told him. 'Don't go anywhere, Doctor.' He flashed the Doctor a smile before making his exit.

The moment he was gone, the Doctor drew out his sonic screwdriver and moved around to the other side of the desk. Flipping on his trusty tool, it buzzed and lit up as it unlocked the first drawer. Inside was a single large piece of paper.

The Doctor took it out and unfolded it slowly across the desk, glancing up at the door. Outside, the Master was still chatting with whoever had come to speak to him. The Doctor looked down at the schematic hurriedly.

Upon it was a rocket, an interplanetary nuclear warhead to be exact. It was an old weapon for this time period, designed to travel to any planet within the system and strike a target. Very deadly stuff. But why, he wondered, would the Master build something considerably primitive for this time? He scanned over the small printing scrawled over the paper, making note of some of the parts. Perhaps this planet just didn't have access to better technology. Or maybe something else was up...

Well, he would have a better look at it later. He quickly folded up the schematic, making it small as possible, before he stuffed it into his pocket. He moved back round to where he was standing before and sat down on the desk.

'Sorry about that, Doctor,' the Master said as he came back in and closed the door. 'All part of the job.'

'Yeah, must be hard work rounding up innocent people and throwing them in prison for speaking out against the regime,' the Doctor said with deadpan. '_Although_, is it me or are you just really fond of getting into government? Cos' you did the same thing back on Earth. You're not running out of ideas, are you? Becoming a one trick pony?'

'Ha! Nice try, Doctor!' the Master laughed. 'But my lips are sealed,' he moved a finger over his lips in a zipping motion to illustrate the point before he went back and sat down behind his desk. He smiled, placing his fingers together in a pyramid.

The Doctor turned and looked at him, somewhat irritated. He realized then that he much preferred the Master's previous incarnations, who had been rather fond of gloating and telling him all their plans in the process. This version was just very clever. Still, that made for a more interesting challenge.

And at that thought, he mentally kicked himself again for deriving some enjoyment out of matching wits with his fellow Time Lord. He remembered what it was he had to do.

'You're coming back to the TARDIS with me, I'm not gonna let you to run round time and space, not after everything you've _done._' He folded his arms.

The Master's face turned cold then. 'You really think I'll just let you take me? Like one of your human pets?'

'You haven't got a choice. Sorry,' the Doctor said flatly. The Master smiled then, a dark, devilish smile, his eyes burning with centuries' worth of hatred.

'_Doctor_,' he spoke softly, putting the same amount of emotion into the name as before, 'you're forgetting, I've got all the cards. How exactly do you plan on dragging me out of here?' He waited just a moment, then continued, his tone turning casual: 'Oh, by the way, does General Greer know you're really a _Time Lord_?'

'What? You know she doesn--' the Doctor stopped, freezing. The Master wasn't looking at him, his enemy's gaze had moved to somewhere behind him. Slowly the Doctor turned, looking at the spot above the Master's door.

There, disguised as a nice decorative piece, was a camera. It looked out over the room, its black eye gazing down at him with cold certainty. Then the door was thrown open.

Several armed men burst in, along with the General herself. It figured they were listening.

'Doctor,' the Master spoke up again, 'you're getting a bit slow. So busy worrying about me, you _really_ should've known about this.'

The Doctor glared at him as the men took him and forced him into shackles.

'Well,' Greer spoke now, 'Doctor Smith is a Time Lord, just like our friend. Now it doesn't matter what we do with him. Since we don't need anymore knowledge, take him downstairs to the lab, I want to find out how he got past the scanners.'

'Ooh!' the Master jumped up, looking giddy as a school boy, 'let me conduct the... _investigation_. I know Time Lords better than your scientists.'

Greer eyed him, then the Doctor. 'Alright, but one of my people goes with you.' She looked around, nodding to the men. 'And someone bring Miles Gordan in; he's got some explaining to do.' With one last glance at the Master, she turned on her heel and left the room.

The Master bounded toward the Doctor, grabbing him under the chin._ 'Got you,' _he whispered, his breath hot against the Doctor's neck, a delighted smile slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'I win this round.'

* * *

_Ring, riiiiing!_ Bloody phone.

Miles Gordon hurried inside the house, his newly teleported mail tucked under one arm. He zipped across the kitchen and grabbed the phone from its cradle, not bothering to turn on the picture.

'Hello?'

'Miles? It's Stacy. They're asking you to come in, that man that you sent to visit the General this morning, apparently he isn't actually a man, and they want you to come and answer some questions. I think they just want an explanation.'

Miles froze, his face turning pale. So they had found the Doctor out, they knew he was a Time Lord. He gripped the phone a little tighter, his mind racing. He knew that he would be blamed for it, his position probably wouldn't protect him.

'Miles? Are you there?' Stacy's voice spoke out from the other end of the phone, her tone concerned.

'What? Yes... I'm here, sorry,' he somehow managed to take all the fear out of his voice, probably from years of having to pretend at the negotiating table. 'Listen, I need to know exactly where he is before I come in. Do you think you could tell me that?' He knew that by asking her he was also putting her in danger, but it was necessary if he was going to save the Doctor.

'Yeah, he's downstairs... I don't know any more than that. If you just come in, they'll take you to him after you've explained everything. You didn't know, did you?' she responded, her voice a bit suspicious.

'What? No.. I didn't know anything,' Miles lied easily. 'Tell them I'll be there soon. Thank you,' he hung up the phone. He knew full well if he went to Central Headquarters all he would see was the inside of a cell. He would be useless to the Doctor then.

There was only one thing left for him to do, something he didn't really want to, but it looked like helping the Doctor had already made him a wanted man. So there was no real harm in making it worse, he was never going to get a pardon on this planet.

Besides, the Doctor had a ship so he could ask for a lift for his family, have them taken to Earth or some other planet. It would be the least the Time Lord could do to repay him.

He grabbed his coat and hurried to the back door, leaving the mail on the table.

* * *

The Master had sent Greer's scientist away after forcefully removing his anti-hypnosis device and programming him to go and stand outside. Humans were among the easiest species to control.

The lab the two Time Lords resided in with a medium-sized room lined with brick walls and no windows, not even at the metal door. Equipment, all of which the Master found disgustingly primitive, was placed about the room. There was even an operating table, but the Master had moved it to one corner. He rather liked the Doctor's current position, though perhaps later he would use physical torture a little.

The Doctor slept, his unconscious form held up only by the chains that dropped from the ceiling. There was still blood at his lip from what the guard had struck him on the way down the stairs. Well, the Master reflected with some satisfaction, that's what the Doctor got for such a half-baked escape attempt.

Leaning against a table full of pointy and interesting instruments, he snatched up the Doctor's suit jacket and began digging through the pockets until he found the sonic screwdriver. He also found something else; folded up neatly and hidden away deep in his former friend's dimensionally transcendental pockets. He set the latter down on the table.

He tossed the Doctor's favourite tool back and forth between his hands. It was a handy little device, but he still much preferred his laser with all its added functions. Unfortunately, Greer had taken it from him, along with everything else he had been carrying that day. Ah well, he would have it back soon enough.

Looking at the table again, he made note of the black vest that lay beside the Doctor's brown trench coat. The guards had torn it off when they'd taken the Doctor's coat and suit jacket. The Master picked it up with his free hand and looked it over.

It was a Chameleon Shirt, a handy piece of Time Lord technology that fooled scanning devices into thinking the wearer was of a certain species. Currently it was set to human. A clever, if simple, way of getting past the scanners. The Master himself had a couple of them stashed somewhere in his TARDIS. He let go of the shirt and glanced at his sleeping prisoner.

Still fiddling with the screwdriver, he stood up and sauntered over to the Doctor, watching him for a moment. He reached out a hand and placed it against the Doctor's chest, feeling the heartsbeat against his palm. For a moment the sound almost synchronized with the drums in his head. The drumming called him to war, any war, and war with the Doctor was always best.

The Master closed his eyes for a second, the Doctor's hearts thumping against his hand. He had the only other heartsbeat like it in the galaxy. He knew that was why the Doctor could never kill him, because then the Doctor would be all alone. The Master took great satisfaction in that fact. He didn't even want to imagine what things would be like for him had the Doctor perished in the Time War.

Finally, he grew impatient and slapped the Doctor hard across the face, hoping it would wake him up. He grabbed the other Time Lord's chin and leaned in close to him.

'_Doctor_,' he whispered, 'wake up!' The Master struck him twice more.

'Nnnghh...' the Doctor groaned, his eyelids flickering.

A sadistic smile crept across the Masters face. He tossed the sonic screwdriver back onto the table and placed both his hands against the Doctor's head, thumbs digging into his temples.

Without hesitation he forced his way into the Doctor's mind, painfully pulling up recent memories as he opened door after door after door within the Doctor's head until he found what he was looking for. And the Doctor's eyes snapped open, wide and pained.

Memories of Regalia Minor; the Doctor's agony; his screams, pleading the Master to stop; the fire and death as the lives of millions were snuffed out. Then the look on the Doctor's face, that unforgettable look of horror and helplessness. _Delicious_. The Master felt a shiver of malevolent pleasure slip down his spine at the memories. Such good times.

Of course, there was one other memory that the Master never got tired of, a memory of destruction so beautiful and dark that he was a little jealous he wasn't the cause of it. The delicious irony of it didn't escape him.

'_No_!' The Doctor screamed, his head tilting backwards so he was looking at the ceiling. And then, much to the Master's dismay, the Doctor began slamming doors until he had forced the other Time Lord out of his head.

The Master staggered back a little, the contact forcefully severed. He wiped the sweat from his brow against his black shirt sleeve. So, the Doctor had been practising his mental defences since their last meeting. Unsurprising.

'I'm not gonna let you do that again,' the Doctor spat, his brown eyes glowing with rage.

The Master pulled a frown, his composure immediately regained. 'You're no fun,' he pouted. The Doctor just stood there, panting and shuddering from the pain of the Master's mental assault. The Master grinned wickedly at him; seeing the Doctor suffer never got old.

'Oh, but, you know you can't keep me out forever,' he closed the distance between them and slid a finger down the Doctor's cheek where he had hit him before. The Doctor shuddered involuntarily, much to the Master's satisfaction. 'We'll watch Gallifrey burn again _together_.'

'_Why_?' the Doctor demanded, his voice shaking painfully.

'Hmm.. because.. it's such _fun_!' the Master declared with a kind of childish glee. He came closer, dropping his hand to the Doctor's chest again, their bodies almost touching. '_Gallifrey burning _at _your_ hands. Ohh, tell me you didn't_ enjoy_ it just a little bit_, Doctor_,' he whispered against the Doctor's ear, caressing every word, his tone dark.

'_Stop it_!' the Doctor spat, jerking away from him and up against the wall, the chains clinking as he did so. 'I had no choice,' he added sadly, voice shaking. He stared at the Master with those wide, pained eyes, tears forming. Such a beautiful sight.

'Aww, _he had no choice_!' the Master laughed, his lips turned upward in a sadistic grin. 'And what about all the other things you've done, _Doctor_? Dark and beautiful things, like when you condemned the Family of Blood to live forever in prison? Did you have a choice than?'

The Doctor looked away, recoiling as though he had been slapped. The Master let out a sigh of triumph. Now this was what he called _fun_!

He turned on his heel and went back to the table, his eyes briefly scanning over the lovely pointed objects. He remained undecided as to whether he wanted to start using them on the Doctor yet or not. though inflicting pain was the easiest way to break down one's mental shields.

'By the way, I found this,' the Master picked up the folded piece of paper and turned to face the Doctor. He wagged a finger at him. 'Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't you know it's rude to go rooting through people's things when they aren't looking?'

'Well, you know me,' the Doctor was suddenly more cheerful, changing moods in the blink of an eye like the Master himself often did. '_Although_, interplanetary nuclear rocket? Bit simple, isn't it?' his eyes gleamed as though he were on to something. The Master simply shrugged.

'Colony 9 is primitive, I just used what I could,' he said. He stuffed the paper into his pocket.

'Mmm, still, you could've built something much more advanced,' the Doctor's eyes lit up even more, 'unless you _want_ it like that.'

The Master's expression gave nothing away. '_Doctor_, don't you ever learn? I'm not going to tell you anything! It would make it far too easy for you and take all the fun away.'

'I'll still stop you, I always do,' the Doctor said flatly.

'_Ooo_, really? Didn't do so well last time, though, did you? I_beat_ you, Doctor, remember?' the Master reveled at every opportunity he had to remind the Doctor of Regalia Minor. He smiled when the other Time Lord scowled at him.

'Yeah,' the Doctor admitted sadly. 'You did. So why keep going? Haven't you got what you wanted? Why keep _destroying_? You could stop, I could help—'

'Don't start that again!' the Master snapped. 'You've given up on me, you know you can't "save" me, I already taught you that lesson. Time to move on. That train has left the station, board the next one or get left behind, Doctor.'

'You're the one who can't move on, you're _obsessed_ with continuing this.. this _grudge_ you've got against me. Keep going and I'll just beat you again,' the Doctor retorted.

With fury creeping up his spine, the Master snatched up a scalpel and moved quickly to the Doctor, placing it against the his throat. He grabbed the other's tie and pulled him forward, pressing the blade into his neck until he drew just the smallest drop of blood. His dark eyes flashed angrily.

'But who has all the cards? Who ruled Earth for a whole year, reducing _you_ to a frail old man? Who destroyed a city on Regalia Minor and tortured you? Oh, _me_!' the Master declared darkly, his brown eyes staring into the Doctor's. 'I'm _winning_, Doctor, right now. Why don't you just admit it?'

'Oh, yeah,' the Doctor said, 'you get your moment of triumph, but I always win in the end. Always have. Did you forget? I'm _brilliant_!'

The Master brought up the scalpel and swiftly dragged the blade along the Doctor's cheek before smacking his nemesis where he had cut him. The Doctor recoiled, his brown eyes turning to glare at him after a second. The lovely moment was just enough to abate the Master's rage.

He smiled suddenly, letting out a chuckle. '_Oooh_, you're enjoying this, aren't you, Doctor? It's just like old times!' he declared.

'No, not anymore,' the Doctor said flatly and the Master knew he was lying, he could feel it.

'You're a terrible liar, Doctor,' the Master ran his hand over the Doctor's bloodied cheek, sliding a finger slowly along the wound. He smiled when the Doctor winced ever so slightly. 'No, you enjoy every minute of our little war, the thrills and the challenges that only _I_ can provide.

'That's why you made that offer before, remember? A "fight across the constellations"! You and me. The last of the_ Time Lords_.' He let his hand drop to his side and regarded the Doctor for a moment, knowing that his words were all too true for his nemesis.

'No, you're coming back to the TARDIS with me when we're done. I don't _care_ if you wanna change or not,' the Doctor just refused to give up on that insane old dream.

'I'll just make your life a living hell if you imprison me. Why bother? I know you'd rather have it this way. It's more fun. At least I can admit I like these games,' the Master tossed the scalpel back to the table.

'Now then!' he flashed the Doctor a smile. 'Worked out a way to escape yet?'

'Mmm... getting there,' the Doctor said casually, glancing at his chains.

The Master smiled and folded his arms, raising his eyebrows. 'You know, I don't think you've got a way,' he said, putting a finger to his lips and adopting the voice of one of those American TV announcers: 'Oh, no! How's our hero going to get out of _this_ one, kids?'

And that, oddly enough, was when the floor exploded a few feet behind him. The Master felt himself thrown against the wall from the shock of it as smoke filled the room. Had he not been so busy shaking off the dizziness, he may have reflected how the event was on cue with his earlier words.

He saw black flashes of movement through the smoke, heard muffled voices and footsteps. He coughed, forcing himself to his feet, his head spinning. When he looked around he saw the Doctor was gone, along with his belongings from the table.

_End Notes: Right, my chapters seem to be getting longer. The next one will probably be a bit shorter. And I think the slash is suddenly a little more implied. It's all John Simm and David Tennant's fault! Of course, it's only there if you choose to see it that way.  
_

_More soon! Thanks for all the lovely reviews!_


	5. The Underground

_AN: So sorry this took forever! I had a small case of writer's block for later in the story... but anyhow, I now know there will be 7 chapters and have the whole thing nicely plotted out. The next chapter will likely be longer then this one._

_And no, I really don't understand nuclear physics at all.. I'm bad with science (haha!). A friend of a friend helped me out with this._

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 4: The Underground**

The moment the Master had been knocked back against the wall two well aimed laser bolts had zipped through the smoke and freed the Doctor from his bonds. He coughed, not taking any time to think as he ran and snatched his things from the table. A gloved hand then grabbed him and pulled him toward the hole.

Now he followed his black clad rescuers down a dark tunnel, smoke still stinging his eyes and his face still throbbing from where the Master had hit and cut him. It was lucky for him they showed up, as he had not actually worked out a way to escape. And their timing was impeccable.

They led him on and on for a while, through the sewers, until they reached a spot where a beam of light shone down from the city streets above. Here he finally got a good look at them.

There were four in total, all wearing black camouflage gear, their faces obscured beneath black masks. One of them stepped forward, his blue eyes glinting. The Doctor noted a name tag on his black shirt which read "Jones."

'You're the Doctor?' he asked.

'Yeah. Jones, is it? Leader of the local resistance movement?'

'Hey,' another one spoke out, 'he catches on pretty quick!'

'_Well_,' the Doctor grinned, 'every oppressive regime's gotta have a resistance movement. That's practically Galactic Law. Now, hold on - don't think I'm not grateful, because I really, _really_ am but... how'd you know how to find me?'

'Mutual friend,' Jones answered. 'He's back at base.'

The Doctor had only to ponder a moment before he figured it out. There was only one person on this planet who had known that he was going to Central Headquarters.

'_Oh_! Miles sent you!' he exclaimed. 'Miles G--'

'Don't mention his bloody name!' Jones snapped. 'Don't know who we can trust. We're not even sure we can trust _you_. No real names.'

'Right, sorry,' the Doctor joined them by the wall, 'but you can trust me, really.. I promise,' he put on his biggest, most sincere grin and blinked when they all stared at him.

He was about to say something else when one of them took out a brick in the wall and pulled down a small lever. The Doctor felt the ground vibrating slightly beneath him and looked down (he noticed his shoes were completely soaked) as a part of the floor shifted away to reveal a hole, through which most of the water drained.

'You first, Doctor,' Jones ordered, gesturing toward the hole. The Doctor went, climbing down the ladder. When he reached the bottom he came out of one small room and into another, feeling slightly disappointed at what he saw.

Well, human beings were still utterly brilliant for holding on, resisting and fighting till the very end. Yeah. Even if their current rebel movement consisted of about a dozen people gathered together in two little rooms. Still, it was something, the Doctor decided. Especially since they managed to rescue him.

'Right, so, you can take off the masks now,' the Doctor said to his escort, turning to face them as they entered the room behind him.

'Why would we? You crazy or something?' Jones asked. 'If we show our faces to each other, chances are somebody will talk. You think we're all bloody fools?'

'Oh, _come on_!' the Doctor said. 'How are you spose to trust each other? And, I gotta say, I'll get tired of talking to a bunch of black masks.'

Jones rolled his eyes before turning to one of his men and striking up a conversation about the status of things. The Doctor waited, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking another glance around the room. It was inevitable that he ended up here, he realized. Helping the local resistance movement while the Master ran round up top going about his evil plans. Yeah, this really _was_ just like old times.

'Doctor! You made it!' The Doctor turned and saw another man wearing a black hood with a badge that read "Miles" sewn onto his shirt. 'Are you alright?' he gestured at the Doctor's bloodied cheek.

The Time Lord put his hand to the wound on his face, feeling warm blood. He pulled his palm away and looked at it, his eyes glowing darkly for a moment.

'Yeah!' he waved his hand dismissively, once again behind the mask. 'I'll be fine, only a little scrape!'

'Did _he_ do that to you?' Miles asked. The Doctor didn't answer, his eyes scanning the room once more.

The moment he spotted something of interest, anything to keep himself from having to explain his ordeal to Miles, he ran toward it. In this case it happened to be a glass case full of interesting little trinkets.

The chest in question sat on a shelf amongst a maileport box and an old tele-transmitter. It wasn't very big, but it contained a large amount of unorganized alien goodies from all sorts of places, some very far away.

'Alien technology,' the Doctor said, glancing at Miles as he soniced the chest's electric lock and threw it open. 'Where'd you get all this?'

'They're from the old museum,' Miles answered, 'the resistance stole them during the revolution. Jones knew that Greer's vision would turn into a dictatorship. I guess some of us learn from past mistakes.'

'Oh, yeah,' the Doctor stopped digging through the chest and looked at Miles with a grin, 'only takes one person to change history. And you keep going, you lot, you keep _surviving_. All the way till the end of time, the human race!'

'Well, thank you.. I.. suppose,' Miles almost seemed uncomfortable in the face of the Doctor's awe and praise. He indicated the chest. 'Do you always just break into things like that?'

'_Well_, old habit.. can't help it,' the Doctor didn't stop smiling, his enthusiasm unabated as he kept digging through the alien tech. There was no weapons, but so many other interesting trinkets. Musical instruments, communicators, holographic devices, there was even an old holo-news tuner from Taron. For a moment the Doctor thought he was back in the junkyards of Idel, such was the variety of all these things.

'Colony 9's not a space exploration planet, where did all this stuff come from?' he asked, flipping the holo-news tuner on and hearing static.

'Some of it was excavated years ago, once a spaceship crashed here, and other things were donated by various collectors,' Miles answered. 'The resistance thought some of those things might be useful, at least they aren't in Greer's hands anymore.'

'Mmm,' the Doctor nodded, pulling up a small circular device with two buttons attached. His face lit up as he realized what it was; his last one had been stolen during his previous trip to Idel.

'Oh, that's _brilliant_!' he exclaimed. 'You know what this is?' He waved the device in front of Miles, bouncing on his heels.

'Well.. no, I can't say so..' Miles eyed it.

'Holo-reflector!' the Doctor explained gleefully.

'I see.. what's it for, exactly?'

'_Well_, it's this, sort of, copier--'

'Doctor!' The Time Lord and his human friend turned as Jones came toward them. The Doctor swiftly dropped his arm, stuffing his hand and the Holo-reflector into his pocket. He had a feeling it would be useful later on.

'Could've asked before you started going through our stuff, you know,' Jones said, frowning as he looked at the chest. He closed it in one quick movement. 'I don't like it when people poke around with these.'

'Yeah, but you can trust me,' the Doctor said confidently. 'Promise. Swear on my life. Cross my hearts,' he indicated his chest.

'Whatever,' Jones shrugged. 'Miles said you could help us out... said our Minister of Truth was a dangerous bloke,' he said.

'Yeah,' the Doctor just nodded, not wanting to get into specifics about the Master. 'Have you got a pencil and paper?'

'Sure, come on.'

* * *

The Master could tell by the looking Greer's eyes that she was more than a little annoyed with him, she blamed him for having loss of the Doctor. 

She had come to the laboratory with a group of guards as soon as the explosion was reported. Immediately the men had grabbed him and escorted him to a small room with a the table and chair. An interrogation room; it was so obvious it might have amused him if he wasn't so annoyed himself.

He'd been quiet about it, as he had been trying to figure out what he was going to do about the Doctor. He already knew, of course, that it was the local resistance movement who had saved him. Every military dictatorship had one, it was practically a rule. And, while he was at it, he deducted that Miles Gordan must have passed the information about the Doctor's location on to those oh-so-heroic rebels.

Before he had considered telling Greer about Miles, but now he decided that the alien expert had more uses after all. But Greer was talking now, pulling him out of his musings.

'Tell me,' she said, standing on the other side of the table where he sat, 'exactly what happened.'

The Master simply could not resist. 'Well, it all started back in school, officer,' his voice became shy, his mouth turned downward, 'and I asked him to go to the dance with me... over and over again... and he just kept saying no!' He put a hand over his hearts. 'I was just so hurt, so I decided--'

'Enough! You don't play these games with me, _Time Lord_. Now answer the question,' Greer glared down at him, those pretty green eyes of hers narrowing.

The Master's expression became hard, his eyes burning as he looked back at her. Normally he might've enjoyed having her run around in circles a bit more, but it was his move in the never-ending chess game that he was playing with the Doctor. And every moment that he delayed gave his nemesis more time.

'Are you interrogating me?' He asked bluntly.

She folded her arms. 'Just answer the question. What happened?'

'No,' he stood up, his patience nearly gone, 'let me ask you again, slowly so you can understand; you ignorant, half-witted, deficient little _ape_ – _are you interrogating me_?' He glared at her, so utterly annoyed with her and her stupid questions that he wanted to kill her right there (he so missed killing people!), perhaps with a knife so he could watch her bleed to death.

'If you don't stop this right now,' she said icily, 'I'll throw you back in your cell and you can stay there until the rocket launches. You know I've never trusted you and you're not winning any points. Now you'd better start answering questions.'

And that was it, he had had it. He had better things to do than sit around explaining something that was irrelevant. Growling, he took the table and threw it sideways before grabbing her by the throat and shoving her up against the wall on the opposite end of the room.

'You've forgotten who you're talking to,' he whispered dangerously. His face was just inches from hers and he savored every second of the fear that slowly made its way into her wide green eyes. She was so tiny, her ambitions so small and worthless. He could conquer the Calken System in a beartsbeat, it wouldn't even be worth the effort.

He considered for a moment. His hand was at her neck; with just one swift move, he could kill her, snap her fragile little bone and watch the life leave for eyes. The drums pounded inside his head, practically demanding him to do it...

'_Take your hands off me_,' she seethed, unable to take all the fear from her voice. He smiled sadistically, he could do so many other things to her before he killed her... she was pretty, after all, for a human, anyway. He'd thought about all the things that he wanted to do to her over the past few months when he had to put up with her every single day.

'Oh, _now_ you're scared,' he purred, '_good_. Listen, have some _respect_, because without my help your little _empire_ won't ever get off the ground and this silly little planet of yours won't amount to anything.'

She didn't say anything, her eyes wide and full of fear, but there was still the faintest hint of defiance there. On any other occasion he might have enjoyed slowly unraveling her, assaulting her mind, and tearing at her until she broke. But today he would do things the easy way. He grabbed her arm and reached for the anti-hypnosis device she had on her wrist.

Suddenly three guards burst into the room and forcefully pulled him away from Greer. She came forward and threw her fist into his gut as they did so. He doubled over, sucking in a breath as the pain tore at him. Sometimes he didn't mind a bit of pain.. but.. she had _punched_ him. _She_ had punched_ him_! Oh, he was going to make her death extra special.

When he finally looked up at her, he was grinning because he knew how much his smug attitude pissed her off. '_Oh_, that _hurt_!' he jeered.

'If I didn't need you, I'd really have you thrown back in that damn cell of yours, _Time Lord_,' she said coolly, rubbing her neck. 'Now, I want you to do as you're told if you ever want your ship back.'

'Ask me nicely,' he said, baiting her.

She came forward and smacked him hard in the face, not once but twice. He recoiled, then smiled, his cheeks stinging. Violence was such a simple way of trying to force someone into submission, so much that he almost laughed at her attempts.

He leaned toward her, whispering: 'To find the Doctor, I'll need those tools you took from me before. Go and fetch them for me, good little ape.'

She hit him again and this time he laughed.

'What do you need those for?' she demanded. 'And what makes you think you're going anywhere?'

He ignored the first question and went with the second: 'Because the Doctor is much too clever for _you_ and your little band of soldiers. And if I don't catch him, he might exercise his annoying habit of bringing down dictators. You wouldn't want that, would you?' He could tell by the look in her eyes that she believed him.

'Alright, and the tools? What do you need them for?'

'It'd take too long to explain it to _you_,' he would've waved his hand dismissively if he could have, 'your little human brain might implode.' He grinned at her, practically daring her to hit him again.

'You're really asking for it,' she said angrily, looking like she wanted to do more then smack him. 'Why are you so smug? I really could lock you up forever.'

'Yeah,' he said, grinning, 'you _could_. But you won't. You _need_ me, I'm the only one who can make the final preparations to the rocket before it launches. And if I don't,' he put on a frown face and spoke in a tone of mock sadness, 'all your little dreams won't come true, _Princess_.'

She didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes glowing with rage. He tilted his head and met her gaze, knowing that she had no choice. She might've refused to accept it, but he was really the one in control. He had been the moment he decided to make the weapon. Seeing her realize just how _much_ she needed his help was such a satisfying sensation.

'My guards will escort you,' she said, her tone somewhat resigned, 'and don't push your luck, or I might just destroy your ship and keep you here forever.' She stepped back and nodded to the guards.

As they dragged him from the room, he laughed again. He found great amusement from Greer's idle threats, the Doctor's eventual defeat, and the moment when he took his revenge on these pitiful people for daring to use him.

Soon he would dance and laugh while they_ all_ died. Slowly.

* * *

Lifting the pencil at last from the page, the Doctor admired his handiwork for a moment. Before him, and those around him, lay an almost-perfect replica of the Master's rocket schematic, drawn from memory. 

'Right, so, interplanetary nuclear warhead. Tiny bit primitive, still not sure why, but! You pack the uranium here,' he indicated the nose-cone of his rocket drawing, 'and--'

'Not uranium,' Miles spoke out from beside him. 'That's not what they're using.'

'Oh, yes, sorry,' the Doctor pondered a moment. 'Year 2305. What are they using now? Tarium?'

'No, he got us with some new substance.. he made it by mixing a couple elements together. None of our scientists have ever heard of it. He had it installed in all our nuclear power stations, it's worked great so far, created a lot of power. It's called karniam, I think.'

'_What_?' The blood drained from the Doctor's face. 'No! No, no, no!' he walked away from them and to the wall, 'it can't be. He wouldn't.. oh, no.. he _would_.' He turned back to face the bemused and puzzled humans, both anger and shock coursing through him.

'What's.. uuh, k_arniam_?' Jones asked.

'It's like uranium, but more unstable, more destructive. The people of Karin, where it came from, they destroyed themselves trying to use it. It'd take someone like the Master to bring it under control... but... Time Lords are immune to it, just like uranium,' he trailed off, deep in thought. His mind raced, doors opening, pieces slowly coming together. Colony 9 clearly didn't have very advanced technology. However, he knew the Master could've built a highly advanced piece of technology out of the old odds and ends on this planet, what with being a brilliant engineer and all. The rocket just wasn't more advanced because it didn't _need_ to be.

'So?' Jones asked. 'It's more deadly. Greer'd wanna use it to attack Colony 5, sounds like something she'd do.'

'No,' the Doctor shook his head, walking back to stare at the schematic. 'No, he's not really helping her..' He pointed a finger at Miles suddenly. 'How many nuclear power stations?'

'What?'

'You said he installed Karniam in your power stations. How many?'

'Oh.. um.. all of them, I think.. we've got.. a few thousand for everyone... apparently it was a pretty simple procedure so it didn't take long.' Miles and the others kept staring at him, clearly waiting for him to deliver his final deduction.

The Time Lord looked at the schematic again, his voice becoming low and dark as he spoke: 'He's gonna destroy all life on your planet.'

_More soon! Promise!  
_


	6. Best Laid Plans

**Chapter 5: The Best Laid Plans**

'_What_?' Jones stared at him, aghast. 'How's he plan to do that? One nuclear blast isn't enough to kill everybody.'

'No, but! He installed the karniam in all your nuclear power stations. When the rocket goes up in the atmosphere, all them will go up with it, he'll have programed them to explode at exactly the right moment.' The Doctor looked around at them, noting their shocked and scared expressions as he explained further: 'The ones who aren't killed in the explosions'll die of radiation, and when the rocket goes it'll blow a hole in the atmosphere. _Millions_ of people, dying _slowly_.. it'll take days and days..' He glared down to schematic again; it was a clever and overblown plan with maximum casualties, just like most of the things the Master came up with. And most of all, as the Master clearly intended, it disgusted him beyond measure.

'Oh my God,' Miles spoke softly, 'the rocket, it launches tonight.'

'We've gotta stop it,' the Doctor said urgently, 'I have to talk to Greer again, persuade her she's making a mistake.'

'No way,' Jones protested, 'she won't listen.'

'Oh, and what do you suggest? Go in there guns blazing?'

'I dunno yet, but I'm not--'

'Sir! Transmission, all channels!' a short little man came running over to them, indicating the tele-transmitter that was now displaying a surprisingly crystal-clear, colour image. The moment the Doctor saw who it was, he grabbed the schematic and rushed over.

The Master leaned against the table in a white room, his brown eyes staring into the camera and meeting the Doctor's. 'Citizens of Colony 9.. oh, no, wait, technically you're not really citizens, are you?' the Master said, putting his hand under his chin in mock thought. 'No, not since you betrayed your planet's leaders, anyway.' He folded his arms and fell silent, as though he were waiting for something to happen.

The Doctor pulled out a sonic screwdriver at once and pointed it at the screen. 'It's not all the channels,' he said softly, 'it's just us... we're the only ones getting it...' he exchanged worried glances with Miles and Jones.

'If I know you, Doctor, you'll be delivering the sad news to your friends,' the Master checked his watch, 'right about... _now_.' He looked back up into the camera and grinned again.

'He knows we're here,' the Doctor said softly.

'_What_?! How the hell can he--' Jones started, but the Doctor held up a hand to silence him as the Master sauntered toward the camera. He stared into it, his brown gaze reaching through the screen and burrowing into the Doctor's soul.

'Your move, _Doctor_,' he whispered sadistically.

The instant the screen went blank, a loud _BOOM_ shook the room, echoed by screams and gunshots coming from the entrance and thick gray smoke rapidly pouring in to the two small rooms.

'Oh, his timing's always perfect,' the Doctor looked at Jones. 'Is there another way out of here?'

'Yeah,' Jones sprung into action, grabbing the chest full of alien trinkets and tossing it to Miles before he turned to face the others. 'All of you, grab what you can and head for the back entrance!' He turned and made for the first room, but the Doctor ducked in front of him.

'Whoa, where are you going?' he demanded, slamming the door shut to widen the distance between them and the invading soldiers.

'I've gotta help them!' Jones practically shouted the words.

The Doctor bolted the door and grabbed Jones by the arm. 'There's nothing you can do! We've got to get out of here _now_!'

Jones had no time to consider, as the Doctor pulled him along toward the exit with everyone else in tow. It was only a few moments after they had gotten out that the door gave way to a ball of flame and soldiers burst into the room, gunning down anyone who was too slow.

The Doctor, Miles, and four others tore off into the murky halls of the sewers, with Jones leading them. They ran for a long time, their pounding footsteps disturbing the usual stillness of the water and managing to soak their shoes and pant legs.

After approximately two hours, ten minutes, and forty seconds (hey, the Doctor was a _Time Lord_), the party of fugitives reached the factory district and journeyed from the sewers into an abandoned building that Jones led them to.

'First off,' Jones said as he stared out into the vast expanse of the empty factory, 'how the ruddy hell did they find us, huh?' he rounded on the Doctor, as if it were all the Time Lord's fault.

'I don't know!' the Doctor exclaimed, holding up his hands defensively. 'Wasn't me.' He scratched his head, running his fingers through his wildly messy hair.

'How am I spose to believe that? Everything goes wrong soon as you turn up and it ain't your fault?' Jones sounded like he could barely contain his rage. At least two of the others seemed to be in agreement with him, their eyes glinting angrily in the darkness. They all still wore their masks.

'Leave him alone,' Miles interjected, 'he wouldn't betray us.'

'Yeh, how do you figure?' Jones folded his arms.

'He knew about you...' the Doctor muttered, 'obvious, really.. every regime's got a rebellion, he'd know that.. but.. how did he know where to find you?' He started pacing, lost in thought.

'I want an answer, Doctor. Maybe you didn't know it, but I'll bet you betrayed us somehow!' Jones held up his rifle, aiming at the Doctor's head. The Time Lord stopped and looked at him.

'Unless I didn't know it? Oh, you're clever!' The Doctor declared, stepping toward Jones and pushing his gun out of the way. Holding up his sonic screwdriver, he flipped it on and moved it along his arms, legs and torso.

'What you doing?' Jones put the gun back in the Doctor's face.

'Checking...' the Doctor glanced at him, 'and stop waving that thing about! You could take out somebody's eye.' He flipped the screwdriver between his fingers and looked around at them all. 'Right then! So.. it's not me.. that means.. it's one of you.'

'_What_? One of _us_?' Jones was sounding more impatient by the minute.

'He means it's one of us who's being tracked,' Miles put in.

'Oh, very good, Miles Gordan,' the Doctor grinned, 'very good!'

'Hey, I told you, no na--' Jones started but the Doctor silenced him with a single raised hand. He stepped toward the nearest rebel whose name wasn't Jones, deciding that scanning the leader first might be a bad idea.

'Nope, clean,' he went to the next. 'No.' And the next. And then the next. He finally came to Miles.

When he moved the sonic over Miles' upper right arm, it gave a loud _blip, blip, blip_. 'Me? It's _me_?' Miles stared at the Doctor in disbelief, reaching up and tearing off his mask, his hair tussled. Jones and the others wasted no time in hoisting their weapons to aim at him.

'Now hold on!' the Doctor protested, looking at their weapons in contempt. He turned back to Jones and checked the screwdriver's readings.

'Ahhh... nano transmitter, embedded in the bloodstream,' the Doctor muttered. It was a clever bit of tracking, but he didn't say that out loud, of course. 'Haven't gotten any shots recently, have you?'

'Um.. well.. everyone was vaccinated against those diseases he cured for us...' Miles said, looking at his right arm. He frowned hard.

'With vaccine he made,' the Doctor slipped the screwdriver back into his pocket. 'But did he do it everyone, or just you...' He looked at the others. 'Anybody else here work for the government?'

Jones glanced around at the others. 'Yeh, couple of us,' he shrugged, 'sometimes we get inside info, but we everybody here's been part of this operation longer then both of you,' he pointed to Miles and the Doctor, 'and somethin doesn't go wrong till _you_ show up.'

'It's only Miles then... but why him, though?' the Doctor ignored Jones' accusations and looked up into the blackness of the factory, pondering.

'I was the first person he spoke to properly when he came here.. I interviewed him,' Miles said with realization, 'and well, I sort of.. mentioned you to him when he said he was a Time Lord.'

'That's it! He must've known you'd contact me, that's why he did it. He knew all along.' Again, clever. And again, he didn't say that out loud.

'How could he possibly know that? I didn't tell him..' Miles said, glancing around at everyone.

'_Well_..' the Doctor shrugged. 'I spose he just guessed...' He didn't mention that the Master had probably hacked into Miles' mind to find the information; the revelation that his nemesis was an accomplished telepath would probably only alarm Miles even further. He really didn't want to get into one of those he can read minds?! conversations.

'Okay,' Jones spoke again, lowering his weapon slightly, 'still not clear on several things here, Doctor. First; how come the world revolves around you? You and this guy got some kinda history, then?'

With the Master, things were always about him, the Doctor thought. It was like he was the center of his nemesis' world. It had always been like that... but he dared not go into it, there would be too many questions he didn't care to answer.

'Something like that,' was all he said.

'More importantly,' Miles interjected, 'can you get this transmitter out of me? I'm sure it won't be long before they find us.'

'Not here,' the Doctor said, 'we'd have to get back to my ship.'

'Ship? He's got a ship now? Why didn't--' Jones started but the Doctor silenced him with a raise of his hand.

He heard something, faint and in the distance. Something that sounded very much like the roar of engines. Vehicles, military vehicles. 'It's too late,' he whispered.

'Wha? What you mean by that?' Jones demanded.

'He's found us,' the Doctor said darkly. He looked around, mind racing frantically. He went through a thousand possible plans, discarding each one and moving on to the next. They were too far in, too far from any exits to make a run for it. The Master was clever, he would've surrounded the building--

The thunder of footsteps and shouting of orders snapped him from his musings. Joining them was a loud, gloved clapping. The Doctor glared into the darkness before him. The Master was here, too, he just _knew_ it.

The lights came on. The factory door slid open and there, flanked by several soldiers, was a black clad figure. The clapping stopped and the Doctor looked around. They were surrounded.

Even so, like any human would, Jones and his men formed a circle around the Doctor and Miles, the only unarmed ones in the group.

'Doctor!' the Master came forward, his voice bouncing across the walls. He wore that familiar suit and black overcoat, the same he had had on when he was masquerading as PM back on Earth. 'Got you _again_! Is all that guilt about Gallifrey and Regalia Minor starting to get to you, effecting that brain of yours?'

'Well, actually, I've got a plan. Good plan. Brilliant, in fact.' The Doctor slipped into his mask of cheerfulness, wincing inwardly at the Master's verbal jab.

'Really? I hope it's not disappointing,' the Master smirked at him. 'I'm wondering if it involves hiding behind the humans.' He indicated Jones and his friends, who still had yet to lower their guns. 'Might wanna tell them to be careful where they point those, or are we gun-friendly now, Doctor?'

The Doctor looked to Jones and the others. 'Put them down,' he said softly, 'there's nothing you can do.' He stepped forward then, hands in pockets as he faced the Master evenly.

Slowly Jones and his fellows lowered their guns, their eyes dark. Miles just stood there, looking thoroughly guilty, and still holding the box of alien trinkets.

'I win again, Doctor. What's the score now? Two to zero? You've got lots of catching up to do,' the Master adjusted one of his gloves casually.

'No worries,' the Doctor said cheerfully, anything to keep the Master talking while he thought. 'My plan's so brilliant that I'll escape, stop the rocket, save the planet, and have you back to the TARDIS just in time for tea.' He grinned.

'Oh, I hope you've got lots of sugar.. and your television's big enough for the both of us,' the Master replied conversationally. The Doctor might've almost believed him, as if they were back in school and chatting about silly things, except for the slight edge of disgust in his tone.

The Master turned and nodded to one of the guards, looking back at the Doctor with a smile that shattered any illusions of old times.

'Don't hurt them,' the Doctor said, 'this is between you and me, just let them go!' He watched as the guards grabbed hold of the rebels, tearing off their masks and taking their guns. He looked to his nemesis again and the Master looked back expectantly, eyebrows raised.

'Please, _Master_,' he added, speaking very softly.

'Ooh, _sweet_,' the Master breathed, voice so soft only the Doctor could hear him. 'And I didn't even ask, Doctor.' He grinned, pleasure written all over his face.

The soldiers began to pull the rebels away from the Doctor, one of them grabbing the glass box from Miles. 'Doctor!' Miles shouted. '_Do something_!'

'Come on, please!' the Doctor looked from Miles to the Master. 'They haven't got anything to do with this!'

'Oh, come on, Doctor!' the Master laughed. 'You really I'm gonna let them go? So they can come back and save you again? How stupid do you think I am?' Reaching into his pocket, the Master produced his trusty laser screwdriver before holding out a hand. 'Now, your sonic. Hand it over. There's a good boy.'

The Doctor scowled at him and kept his hands in his pockets.

'_Doctor_!' the Master sighed theatrically. 'This is getting old. Don't make me start shooting your friends!' He moved round the Doctor, his weapon trained on the rebels. 'Wonder who I should kill first...' The soldiers had stopped escorting the prisoners now.

'Alright!' the Doctor sighed and handed over his favourite tool. He still had no plan and now he had no sonic screwdriver. Great.

'Thank you,' the Master smiled with mock appreciation as he took the device. 'Take them away,' he added, nodding to the guards. The men did as ordered, everyone leaving the room except the Doctor, the Master, and a small number of men who were too far away.

'_So_,' the Doctor said, hiding behind his cheerful mask, 'now what? More _torture_?'

'Ooh, maybe.. don't tempt me. It was fun, wasn't it?' the Master stuffed the sonic screwdriver in his pocket and regarded him. 'Maybe I should take you back to my TARDIS and keep you like you want to keep me. That'd be _good_, wouldn't it, _Doctor_?'

'Nawh!' the Doctor said dismissively, more than a little horrified by the thought. 'You'd just get bored. Where'd the fun be?'

'Oh, I dunno... I'd give it a few centuries before I got tired of watching my _favourite_ memory.'

The Doctor's expression darkened, the last of the mask slipping away. He couldn't pretend or make witty remarks when the Master slapped him with Gallifrey's destruction. It was always like a knife being twisted further and further into his gut and there was never anything he could do about it.

'But! You'll have to excuse me, I've got _so much_ work to do,' the Master said suddenly, much to the Doctor's surprise.

'What, no more gloating? Not even a tiny bit? We're not gonna have a nice chat or anything?' The Doctor scratched his head, lifting his eyebrows. 'You must have a busy schedule; modifying power stations, installing nano transmitters in government employees, launching rockets..'

'I knew you'd figure out that part. A bit late, though,' the Master clearly couldn't resist bragging a little. 'I made the nano transmitter myself, you know.'

'And how'd you find out Miles was gonna contact me? Hacking his mind? You could never respect people's privacy, could you?'

'I just had a quick look. Quite clever, really. That's the funny thing about you, Doctor; the people you insist on surrounding yourself with, they're so _easy_ to use.'

'At least none of them are murdering psychopaths,' the Doctor retorted. Then he realized where this was going; he was starting to banter with the Master again, just like in the old days.

Before his old friend could respond he added quickly: 'Come on, Master! This dance is so old now. Don't you ever get tired of it? You make a plan, think you're so clever, then I show up, put a stop to it, and we both run off till it happens again. Don't you ever want it to end, like the drumming?'

'No,' the Master looked at him darkly, 'the music never stops, Doctor. Our little war doesn't end, not ever.'

'Takes two to fight,' the Doctor said, part him knowing this whole argument was hopeless, but at least it bought him more time. 'We could stop this. Let me help you... please. The drumming--'

The Master laughed. 'You know, Doctor, I think this current incarnation of yours is my favourite so far; you just _beg_ and whine so well! It's _classic_!

'And this must be the youngest body you've regenerated into by far.' He put out a gloved hand, drawing a finger over the cut on the Doctor's cheek. 'You'll have that for a few days. Something to remember me by.' He grinned and leaned in close, his brown eyes glittering.

'Be seeing you,' he whispered, stepping away. He gave a little wave and turned on his heel, walking back toward the entrance. 'Take him away!' he called over his shoulder.

The Doctor knew there was no point trying to convince the Master to stop this whole charade, so he just quietly let the guards take him. His nemesis obviously wanted him present when the rocket went up, maybe he even wanted him to escape. He always did like showing off too much, it was one of his greatest weaknesses.

* * *

'This is great!' Jones fumed, pacing his cell in anger. He glared across at Miles, his blue eyes glinting angrily through his messy mop of black hair. Miles didn't return the glare, too busy staring at his feet.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly; he was still surprised the Master had placed a tracker in him. And he still had it; he rubbed his arm and wondered if the Doctor would ever be able to remove it.

He knew he'd been getting into trouble when he signed up, but he hadn't thought this would happen. The last time he'd met the Doctor, the Time Lord had saved both him and Earth from the Zygons. And besides, he still had to ask the Doctor about getting a lift to Earth for his family...

'And _you_!' Jones looked toward the Doctor, who hadn't moved since they arrived. 'Knew we never should've trusted you! That Master bloke, he's got it in for you and now we're all mixed up in this bloody mess! So what we gonna do then, _Doctor_?'

It was to Miles' surprise that the Doctor said nothing. The Time Lord just sat there in his cell, looking at the floor, uncharacteristically quiet.

'Doctor?' Miles tried, his voice much softer. But the Doctor didn't move. In fact, now that Miles thought about it, he hadn't said a word since they arrived. Had the Master done something to him?

The room's door opened suddenly and the eyes in each of the four cells turned to see a familiar, brown coated figure entering.

'Doctor?' Miles spoke first. 'But.. you're..' He indicated the other Doctor sitting in the cell.

'Here to rescue you? Well, now that you mention it,' the Doctor who had just arrived put on a grin. Yeah, it was definitely him. 'Oh, he's awful quiet, isn't he? Not like me at all!' He looked at his clone.

'Okay, what the hell?' Jones demanded. 'What's all this?' He pointed back and forth, evidently confused by the sight of two copies of the Doctor. The Time Lord turned to him.

'Just a tiny bit of tinkering and viola! Two me's!' The Doctor produced a set of keys from his pocket and shoved one of them into his duplicate's cell door. He swung it open and stepped inside. 'The Master may have taken my sonic screwdriver, but I had this!' He reached his hand inside the clone's coat and pulled off a tiny device, one familiar to Miles. The clone immediately faded away.

'That's the holo-reflector,' Miles pointed out, 'you slipped it in your pocket, didn't you?'

'Yup! Never know when you need to make a holographic duplicate of yourself! I did the swap back at the factory; the Master only left a couple guards.'

'So, what, you took em out?' Jones asked.

'Well, sort of..' the Doctor moved quickly, unlocking their cells. 'But it's a bit boring, honestly. And we've got a rocket launch to stop!' He looked at Miles. 'How much time?'

'About..' Miles checked his watch, recalling when the rocket would go up, 'an hour.'

'Right then, time we got to Greer before they notice we're gone,' the Doctor cast an unsavoury glance at the security camera in the corner. 'This place is really lax on security, I snuck in after I followed the guards from the factory.'

This time Jones made no arguments about Greer, he seemed glad to be out of his cell. And so was Miles. This looked much easier now that they were free and the Doctor was with them.

As they left the room, the Doctor mused a bit about how the Master probably meant for them to escape or that the soldiers had perhaps all gone to guard the rocket launch. Regardless, someone had either intended their escape or screwed up somewhere so it was made easier for them.

And here Miles couldn't help but notice that the Time Lord seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the stakes. Certainly, the Doctor's mood was urgent, but when he spoke about what the Master was up to, there was a note something else in his tone. Almost like he was a schoolboy enjoying a rivalry, about which he seemed rather conflicted.

Sadly, they hadn't gone far down the guardless hallways before, unsurprisingly, two armed guards showed up half-way to the launch control room.

'Stop!' one of them ordered, gun trained. 'Don't move!'

Predictably, the Doctor disobeyed and stepped forward, hands raised a little bit.

'Hello!' he said cheerfully. 'We were just on the way to the command centre, you mind taking us there? No?' He raised his eyebrows innocently. 'Just want a word with the general, won't take long. Promise.'

The guard eyed him and exchanged glances with his colleague. 'Alright,' he said, 'this way.' They gestured with their weapons and soon enough the prisoners were back on their way.

'How did you do that?' Miles whispered to the Doctor. 'They should be taking us back to our cells.'

The Doctor shrugged, 'I'm just very good.' Miles blinked, wondering if the Master's hypnosis ability was something all Time Lords shared...

A moment later they entered the control room, one guard in front and one in back of their little group.

The room was well lit, lined with computer terminals and at least twelve people working at them. Greer stood at the top with two others, both dressed in lab coats. Down the front there was a large screen depicting an image of the rocket itself and some complex readings.

Greer immediately turned on her heel when they entered. 'What is this? What are they doing here?' she demanded, going for her pistol.

'S-Sorry, ma'am,' one of the guards stammered, 'but they _needed_ to see you...'

'Actually, just me!' the Doctor declared, stepping boldly out of the group. 'Just needed a quick word. Hello!' He waved as he came toward her and she trained her gun on him.

'Oh, you dictators are all the same. Waving guns about, stealing Orwell's names, oppressing your people, using all that propaganda...' the Doctor stood in front of her, rather boldly, Miles thought.

'What do you want?' she demanded, much to Miles' surprise.

'You to stop your rocket launch,' the Doctor stated, 'shouldn't be too hard. You haven't even started the countdown.'

'And why would I do something like that?' She lifted her eyebrows in amusement, glancing around then.

'Because if you don't everyone on this planet is dead,' the Doctor spoke the words slowly and deliberately.

* * *

The Master whistled a little jib to himself as he proceeded into the lower bowels of the bunker. He had only recently gained the location of his ship out of one of the scientists in charge of examining it, after months of manipulation.

With some careful use of the laser screwdriver, he gained access to each entry point in the long journey to the desired room. The Doctor had probably escaped by now; he wasn't sure how, but he knew the other Time Lord would find a way. He also knew that the Doctor would predict his leaving and tell Greer about it. Or he hoped so, he _really_ wanted her to show up at the silo with a bunch of men.

He finally reached the appropriate door; a metal one with a small window. Flicking a button on his screwdriver, he quickly gunned down the two men guarding it. He did his best not to kill the second man, just wound himself so he couldn't do much. He removed both their weapons and tossed them away down the hall before he tore open a panel on the wall and set to work.

Through the mess of wires, he found the oxygen control for the next room and, with a bit of help from his trusty laser, managed to turn it off. He grinned, checking his watch. It wouldn't be long before the men in the next room were struggling feebly for air, like fish out of water.

* * *

'_What_?' Greer demanded, voice carrying a hint of amusement still.

'Let me show you,' the Doctor said, hoping he was beginning to get through to her. He had a feeling the Master was already gone.

He sat down at the nearest empty computer terminal and, with a little help from his sonic, logged in. His fingers zipped across the keyboard in a flurry of movement, sorting through document after document until he finally found what he was looking for: an encrypted set of commands that were read-only and buried within the mainframe. He wasn't sure if the Master chosen not to hide them better or if he actually wanted them to be found. His fellow Time Lord's computer skills weren't equal to his, he thought.

'Look, here,' he ran a test of the commands, so their intended functions were demonstrated on the main screen. 'He's built a self-destruct protocol into the rocket, so it'll blow up once it reaches the atmosphere. It's timed to go up with all your power stations, the same ones he installed karniam in.'

The Doctor turned to face them, watching as Greer's face turned from amusement to disbelief. He met her eyes, silently hoping she would just _listen_ and believe him.

_More soon! Sorry this took so long. Only two more chapters to go,._


	7. Best Served Hot

A/N: OMG, I live! I'm so sorry, everyone, for not updating in ages. I was working on my original fantasy novel (which is thankfully better written then this fic) and I didn't get back to this until now. Then I watched Sound of Drums the other day... and yeah... :) So here it is, one more chapter to go. Thanks for your patience, folks!

**Chapter 6: Best Served Hot**

He grinned as he watched them dropping dead, one by one, eyes wide and pained. There were only a few things in life (the Doctor's unbridled suffering being one) that were sweeter then a sight such as this.

When he was satisfied they couldn't do him any harm, the Master ventured back into the the mass of wires, again utilizing his trusty screwdriver to restore the oxygen. He then threw open the door, pausing at the guard who was trying to claw his way up the wall with his injured leg.

'Oh, sorry, I forgot you were there, how rude of me. Don't get up,' the Master grinned and went to the wall. 'I think this was what you were looking for?' he pulled the corded phone off its cradle and handed it to the guard. 'Here, be a good tin soldier and call Greer. Tell her the Master's on his way to the rocket silo.'

He gave the appropriate number a call and patted the injured man on the head before sauntering off through the door, whistling again.

His TARDIS was an old and welcome sight (and still in the guise of a Rexellan 4 tree), it practically hummed at his presence.

Reaching into his coat, he found the hidden pocket with his spare key, a pocket that would only open for him. Isomorphic pockets, you ask? Yes, only someone as brilliant as the Master could come up with such an _excellent_ idea.

Twisting the key in the lock, he stepped across the threshold and into his ship. He felt a wave of power wash over him; with his TARDIS he could practically do anything he pleased, go _anywhere_...

But no, not yet. Revenge first. Sweet, delicious revenge, best served hot and with a dash of sugar. He couldn't stop grinning as he went to the console and keyed in the co-ordinates.

A loud wheezing echoed over the halls of the bunker and the Time Lord was gone.

* * *

Greer looked to one of her lab-coated scientists.

'Is it true?' she asked, voice shaking slightly. The Doctor stood up and allowed the scientist access to his computer terminal. He glanced at Miles and the others, surprised that they hadn't yet wrestled the weapons from the few remaining guards. For once they all seemed notably quiet.

'Yes, ma'am, it looks accurate,' the scientist spoke, his accent thick. The Doctor finally allowed himself to breath a soft sigh of relief; Greer would surely believe him now.

She lowered her head, muttering something. Then she gripped her pistol tighter and glared at the floor, seemingly coming to a decision. She looked to the guards. 'Find that damn Time Lord and bring him here!' Three of the men departed immediately.

'He's gone,' the Doctor said.

'What? How can he be_ gone_? He needed someone to drive him to the silo.'

'No, he's already left, in his TARDIS,' the Doctor continued. 'Go on. Check and see.'

Greer's fell face, her mouth opening slightly. 'That's impossible,' she said, not sounding very convinced. 'His ship is under heavy guard. He couldn't possibly!'

'Oh, he'll have figured out a way to get to it long before now,' the Doctor stated grimly. 'You should've listened to me earlier; the Master can't stand being used. Now he wants revenge and he's gonna take it on this whole planet.'

The Doctor was about to ask her to check again, but just then a loud _rinnnng_ broke the stiff silence that had settled over the room. A guard immediately picked it  
up.

'Ma'am,' he said, 'the Master's escaped... we've got injured and dead people down in containment room six.'

'Get people down there to help them!' the Doctor spoke up when Greer said nothing, his tone commanding. When the guard hesitated, he added a resounding '_Now_!'

Even without orders from his leader, the man seemed to realize that the Doctor's suggestion was the right action to take and he hurried out of the room.

'Well? You believe me now?' the Time Lord turned back to Greer.

'Can the launch be stopped from here?' Greer spoke to her scientist.

'Supposedly.. but..' the scientist responded, 'he's overridden the controls.. so I don't think--'

'Let me, I'm brilliant with computers,' the Doctor sat down when the scientist moved, 'think he might've forgotten that.' Again, his fingers flew over the keys, the monitor going through screen after screen.

He paid no attention to the sounds and footsteps behind him, brow furrowed in concentration. He knew a moment later that both Miles and Jones were standing over him, but he paid them no mind.

'Come on.. come on..' he muttered, running decryption protocols invented in the future so the system couldn't stand up to them. He was almost there... almost to the deactivation screen, hidden away so deep...

Suddenly a loud _BEEP_ sounded from every computer around the room and the screen before them flashed up a bright blue screen, lined with bold white letters. The Doctor could practically hear the Master's voice in his head as he read them to himself, picturing his nemesis standing there and wagging a finger at him mockingly.

_Ah, Ah, Ah, Doctor! Nice try, but you didn't say the magic word!_, they read. Evidently the Master hadn't quite forgotten his fellow Time Lord's brilliant computer skills.

'Oooh, blue screen of death,' the Doctor muttered, running his fingers through his messy hair, 'disables the system when someone runs new encryption protocols. He knew I'd try. Bit clever, really.' He admitted the truth before he could stop himself.

'You can't stop it?' Miles spoke up from beside him.

A few more button pushes confirmed Miles' words, as the computer beeped defiantly at him. 'Not from here, no,' the Doctor said.

A loud beeping turned everyone's attention to a schematic by the far wall. Greer's scientist moved toward it. 'We are losing power, all across the continent, the stations are shutting down.' Red lights on the panel turned off one by one. The Doctor suddenly imagined the Master turning a few dials and throwing a switch at the rocket silo; he must've turned off all the power.

'"The darkness has come",' the Doctor muttered, again making with the quotes. Tolkien seemed appropriate in this case.

Suddenly the room was bathed in darkness, the soft buzzing of the computers ceasing as they, too, lost power. The Doctor jumped up, turning to look at Miles and Jones, his Gallifreyan eyes adjusting to the darkness before he fished through his pockets and produced a torch.

'That's it!' he declared, flipping on the light so its bright beam lit up his smiling face. It was clearly obvious, now that he thought about it.

'We dun follow,' Jones was the first to speak.

'The Master, he shut off the power. That means he didn't actually _program_ the nuclear reactors to explode. Course not, he couldn't; somebody would've noticed. So he's gotta do it from his end, but the fail safes would guard against that, that's why he shut everything off. He'll have to-- Oh! Oh, thats _brilliant!'_

'You're.. complimenting him?' Miles blinked.

'Nawh! Never! I've just found the flaw in his plan. He's always got one,' the Doctor grinned.

'What is it then?' Jones demanded.

The Doctor was about to answer when his eyes, then his torchlight, combed the room and he realized it was rather bare save for the remaining rebels and the scientist. 'Where's Greer? I need to find the TARDIS.'

'She left,' Jones said, 'didn't you hear? Went off to the rocket silo to stop this stuff. Now, are you gonna tell us--'

'_What_?' the Doctor exclaimed. 'No, no, no!' He walked away from the computer, glaring at the floor. 'That's exactly what he wants! She can't stop him!' He turned to the nearest scientist.

'How long does it take to get to the silo?'

'Umm.. about.. fifteen minutes,' the white-coated man replied.

'Fifteen... right! Plenty of time!' He grinned at the man. 'Thanks for that. Now, have you seen a blue box recently? A police box? Tall, wooden, sort of.. rectangular?' He made a gesture to indicate the size of his beloved ship.

'Yes, a few hours ago,' the scientist replied. 'The Master brought it back here before he went out to get you.'

'Brilliant, knew he would,' the Doctor said. 'So, where is it then, then?'

'I could show you--' the scientist began.

'Right,' the Doctor said, 'one sec.' He turned on his heel, threw open a desk drawer and withdrew a small disk. 'Never leave home without one.' He stuffed the disk in his pocket and looked at the scientist, handing him the torch. 'Right then, lead the way, allons-y.'

* * *

Throwing open the TARDIS doors, the Doctor ignored Jones and Miles' gaping and usual denouncements of "it's bigger on the inside!" that were so often stated they had almost become cliché.

He threw his coat over one of the pillars before going to the console and withdrew the disc from his pocket. 'Off we go then, to the rocket silo!' he threw the handbrake and the ship did its usual rocking, knocking both his passengers off their feet.

'_OW_! Kinda bumpy, ain't it?' Jones exclaimed. He didn't bother getting up off the floor. /p

'_Well_,' the Doctor shrugged, 'she never was very fond of short trips.'

'So, we're flying?' Miles asked, clinging to the console for dear life. 'All the way out to the rocket silo?'

'Nawh! Dematerialization! That's what TARDISes do; disappear one place and reappear in another. Only way to travel.' The Doctor kept his eyes on the monitor as he explained, the screen going through several pages of Gallifreyan text.

'Doctor,' Miles said, 'before we land, you have to tell me. I've been wondering – how _exactly_ did you escape the guards before?'

'Hmm? Bit easy, really,' the Doctor said, still not looking up. 'The Master; he obviously wanted me to escape, wants me to be there in his moment of triumph, since he's so full of himself, thinks I can't stop him--'

'Doctor!' Miles interrupted his spiel, looking at him impatiently.

'Right, sorry. Anyway, basically, they put me in a room after we got here and left me on my own, so I left the holographic copy of myself and shifted off into the ventilation shafts. Like I said, bit too easy.'

'Oh..' Miles seemed slightly disappointed, as though he were expecting something much more grand. The Doctor, however, paid it no mind. He knew he only had a few moments to finish what he was doing and the worry that his ship might arrive a little too late nagged at him. Why was it that the military never listened and always thought they could solve everything with the use of force? The Master surely knew that, too, and would use it to his advantage.

The central column stilled and a loud boom sounded throughout the ship, indicating that they had landed

The Doctor withdrew the disc from the console and stuffed it back in his pocket. 'Time to go, you two.'

* * *

Inside the rocket silo, the Master finished programming in the rocket's trajectory and the timer for the nuclear explosion. Inside the little enclosure that made up the control room was a window giving a view of the rocket, a door leading out to it via a bridge and his TARDIS for his easy escape.

_Intruders Detected!_ A red screen on the control panel bleeped annoyingly at the Master. He checked the current radiation output within the room before switching off the alerts. He already knew Greer and her little tin soldiers had entered the complex.

With one last look out the window and at the rocket, he pulled down the little black lever that began the countdown – _T-Minus fifteen Minutes_. It was plenty of time for him to kill Greer before he had to make the final adjustments, lock the system, and then escape.

'_Time Lord!_' He turned, one hand holding the laser screwdriver on the panel behind him, it's setting already on _kill._ General Greer and several soldiers burst into the room from one of the two entrances, their guns trained on him. The door they had come through slammed shut behind them after a button press from the Master.

'Stand down, stop the countdown!' Greer ordered, her eyes blazing with delicious fear.

'What?' he casually tapped out the cursed drumbeat on the panel behind him. 'Getting cold feet? I thought you wanted to rule the Calken System. I should've known  
you'd--'

'I mean it!' she interrupted him, much to his annoyance. 'Turn it off and surrender. I know what you're really doing here. You're going to kill us all.'

'Ooh,' he put a hand to his hearts, 'I'm _hurt._You'd believe the_ Doctor _over me. Do you know he's always been a great liar; says he's your friend, but he's really just gonna stab you in the back.' For a moment his eyes flashed darkly, the mask broken by memories long past. But only for a moment.

She brought her weapon up, finger going to the trigger, her dark eyes narrowing. He noticed how she trembled and knew why at once. 'You turned off the power everywhere, show us how you did it so we can fix it,' she said.

'Oh, alright!' he threw up his arms, the laser screwdriver still sitting behind him. 'I'll just do _exactly_as you say because you told me to! I'm scared now!' He rolled his eyes and folded his arms before continuing: 'I should tell you; firing a gun in here might not be a good idea,' he brought both his hands forward and made a grand gesture while mouthing _explosion_ to illustrate his point.

Greer hesitated, the weapon quivering in her hand even more now. Looking behind her, the Master saw that her soldiers were also trembling. Many of them didn't seem to notice.

'Why should I believe you?' Greer demanded, even her voice was shaky.

The Master lifted his eyebrows, just daring her to fire, knowing he was quicker then her, that he could have the laser screwdriver armed and fired before she could now that her arm was trembling so violently. She brought up her other hand to steady herself, looking back at her men and seeing they were feeling it, too. 'W-what have you...' she started, but found herself unable to finish. Her men stumbled slowly to the floor while she staggered a little, desperately trying to keep her footing.

'Oh, you're wondering why you can't control your movements?' he grinned suddenly, his brown eyes shining sadistically. He stepped toward her, screwdriver in hand. 'The radiation, General, you forgot to check the meter, didn't you? I've heard it's _incredibly _painful.' He indicated the wall, where a meter informed anyone who dared look at it that the whole room was full of karnium radiation.

'Y-you're not...' Greer stumbled again, finally falling forward against the Master. He grabbed both his arms, his grip so iron that she dropped her pistol. He could feel the sweat on her skin, knowing it would soon be joined by her own blood.

'I'm a Time Lord,' he declared, 'we're_ immune._'

She stared back at him, opening her mouth to speak, her whole face masked in horror. She had never looked so afraid, so pathetic in the whole time he'd known her. Her facade of the soldierly leader was gone now.

'W-Why.. a-are.. you.. d-doing..' she tried to finish but couldn't her lips trembling and her eyes wide.

He placed a finger to her mouth. 'Revenge,' he whispered, his tone cold as ice. 'You thought you could_ use _me!_ Me_! Did you _really_ think I was gonna help _you_ conquer this useless star system? If you actually cared about them, you might be thinking about how all your people are gonna die because of _you_.' He grinned at her, his tone suddenly changing like the flip of a coin, his voice cheerful and upbeat again: 'Oh, by the way...' He slammed his fist into her chest, sending her sprawling to the floor. He laughed, clapping his hands together with almost-childlike glee.

He looked back at her men, noting they'd all passed out from the pain. She soon would, too, but not yet. Not before--

'_Master! Stop!'_ Ah, at last; that desperate voice; the voice that his name was so suited to. A slight shiver crept up his spine as he turned to the door nearest him. There he was on the other side; the _Doctor_. His eyes blazed with desperation, a look the Master considered most precious.

'Doctor!' he turned, grinning at the other, 'you got here just in time. We've got about...' he checked his watch, 'seven minutes till nuclear holocaust! I'm still waiting on your "brilliant" scheme to save the day."

'Please, just--' But this time the Master didn't let the Doctor finish; he turned and fired a bright yellow laser into Greer's chest. She fell over with a cry, blood staining the floor, her dead eyes wide open and staring up at him.

The Doctor said nothing; his face clouded over with that sick moral rage, his eyes showing the sorrow he felt at the loss of life. It was the same look he gave the Master just after he'd destroyed Regalia Minor.

'Ooh, what, Doctor; no word of protest? No "ohh, why'd you have to kill her!"? The Master burst into laughter, the look on the Doctor's face was pure class! 'I could talk about this all day, but you'll have to excuse me; I've got to finish destroying this little planet. Good luck getting through that door without your precious sonic screwdriver.'

Giving a little wave, the Master turned and threw open the door to the rocket, walking across the catwalk. He spared the Doctor one final glance, seeing his enemy was no longer visible outside the door. It was his move now.

The Master grinned to himself as he walked; the first time he'd beaten the Doctor at Regalia Minor it had been truly sweet, but this time it would be even better, like a drug you had to work very hard to get.

T-minus 6 minutes till the end of the world.

_More soon! I swear I will finish this! Just one more chapter to go!_


End file.
